St. Eugene: Not a Poetry Video (yet)

Here are the gates. Beside them, an image from an older time, another purpose. Here is the gorgeous architecture. And beside it, tribute to the children brought here. Building and children face East, where the sun rises steadfast over blue mountains. Here is the message, the new mission. And here, the window of the room…

Wood With Rabbit

married at the scar, two salve trees lean against each other, how we all learn to walk, watching feet trusting heads to sky silver leaves tip up for rain and beneath them, small boy rabbit frozen in prayer, down among fireweed, wild rose and stalks of tiger lily, velvet footed indian paintbrushes is that where…

Being Here, Now, Part Two

So, I was saying I  met Ram Dass? That is to say, in the library of the good people who invited me to live in their house (and made it seem I was doing them a favour by house-sitting), among the books was this dark purple one, called ‘Be Here Now.’ I’d never seen anything…

Being Here Now, Part One

Long ago, in Mexico, I lived by myself for the first time in my life. All alone, in a traditional Mexican house, which closes firmly to the street, but opens into a courtyard, which ends at a rough stone wall, shared by several neighbourhood houses. I’d lived in that town for about half a year,…

O Canada: Our Home, and Native Land

Not that we haven’t got Indigenous language versions, made by Indigenous language speakers. That’s remarkable, really, considering how the government made it policy to try to exterminate our languages. My Ojibwe tongue was severed in my father’s generation. That those who have kept our languages love this country in spite of it all, enough to put into those the anthem of the country that engendered such a history of abuse against our families, frankly moves me to tears.

This level of love and enduring belief in the power of making a home here for all comers should be lifted up as one of the world’s great examples of humanity.

Beginning and Beginning and Beginning

  Today, they took the statue down in Kjipuktuk, or Halifax town in Mi’kmaki, mapped as Nova Scotia along the stormy Atlantic Ocean   Where did it begin? This need to raise up monuments to men who call for deaths of other men and women and children and ways and lay a bounty on our scalps…

On the New Age: Ode to an Alien Nation

Feathers belong to birds. Any human, anywhere, who uses them in any way is using a gift that we appropriate, to which we assign human meanings. What do the birds have to say about it?  Lately, on social media, I’ve seen Indigenous thinkers and activists moving to take down a spate of New Age practitioners…

On Aboriginal Veterans’ Day

Today is Aboriginal Veterans’ Day in Canada. I suppose this is a necessary part of the process of Truth and Reconciliation for our nation, but I find it an ambivalent undertaking. It’s necessary, because so many Aboriginal men, and women, served in Canada’s Armed Forces despite their civilian status placing them in a position of…

Hallows: At the Thinning of the Veil

Read this while listening to Sting’s “Love is the 7th Wave” from 1985’s Dream of the Blue Turtles, which runs in my head as I write. (Megwetch, Mr. Sumner, for that&many more songs). at the edge of darkest season as the bright and ripe subside in rolling sober robes, november high above the city thermals…

Little Autumnal Verse (for RM)

Just for fun, here’s a verse that came to me this morning, inspired by a Twitter pal’s lament over the sadness of rain in October. It reminded me of my dad, passing on the Anishinabe view that Winter is simply when our Mother rests. This resonates with views I’ve learned from various Earth-based spiritual systems,…

Creation

they say, star woman fell down here because she was curious they say, the star sisters still watch us they say, when star woman fell it was a humble one who gave all he had to reach enough earth for her landing they say, the humble ones still watch us they say, the turtle carries…