We are like storks in Mazury
every year, returning our gaze
to the heights allotted us;
we are like mermaids
and the Holy Mother
watching over our own heart;
we are broad and dark
bold despite uncertainty
like glacial lakes;
and in us, let it be
said that, epochally ancient
light still dances.
The Mazurka, of course, is a most famous Polish country dance. My mother’s family came from Poland, and I cherish our hard-headed endurance, even as I understand – I am not Polish, nor could I be confident that I’d be embraced fully as family, any more than I am ever certain of my full-hearted welcome among my Anishinaabe and Mi’gmaq kin. But that is no reason not to dance.
Image by Emilia_Baczynska on pixabay.com
Thankful to the makers of this great documentary, a fine companion on a rainy morning.
Prairiepomes 