As I read this weekend, I found Peter Blue Cloud poem. Blue Cloud subtly describes an interconnectedness quite, often overlooked in daily life, that exists in the universe. When we step away from life’s busyness and impersonality and move slowly, gracefully and intimately we explore and connect in the world instead of being outside it.
Indigenous cultures, through tricksters, understand the world as a space humans live in. Coyote is a trickster in many North American aboriginal stories. Through coyote, Peter Blue Cloud reminded me I live in the world and not outside it or beside it. I made whole in this relationship.
Ecologically and ideally, classrooms, students, and teachers are nodes on vast interconnected webs across time and space. Seen this way, education is a reverent, holy space binding us together as it holds stories across cultures and generations. We hear the voices of all, particularly those who live on the margins.
by starlight hush of wind the owl’s voice,
the campfire embers glowing inner universe
by firelight smoke curls weaving faint the voices,
coyote voices faint the pain and smell the pitch,
fire, I sing you stars,
fire, I breath obsidian
& again the owl’s shadow voice leans back
into times past
slinging firs fire,
brittle spine bent bowed toward the fire,
voices low to murmur a child whimper,
deer fat sucked upon to gentle dreaming,
the mother her song the night cradles,
child, the owl, too, has young,
tiny hears and warmth of down,
& old man coughing guttural spit to fire,
young people giggle beneath hide fondlings,
soon to sleep,
again coyote voices drown the mind in a loneliness
of deep respect in love of those who camp
just up the hill,
& tiny crystals of tears spatter the dust,
my people,
legs cannot every carry me back to you,
soul that holds you
forever.