My clothes still smell of dirt,
~~ Other People's Fingerprints ~~
Canada First Nations, Ojibwa chant;
“And it is going to echo clearly against the sky
when I come along making my noise.”
the smell of the many feet
that walk these paths.
that walk these paths.
My clothes still smell of clay
the smell of many hands
who sculpt history.
who sculpt history.
My clothes still smell of rain,
the smell of many bodies washed -
the thirst of a land never quenched.
My clothes still smell of the Sun,
the smell of skin baking –
the heat of a land never burnt.
My clothes still smell of moon,
the smell of faces glowing, beaming smiles –
the light of a land never in darkness.
My clothes have been washed many times,
the smell of life never fades –
the warmth of my flesh never cools.
My clothes have been worn out over time,
the smell of my experience grows stronger –
the taste I have for life never diminishes.
It is beauty that unites
love with passion and ecstasy with eternity.
love with passion and ecstasy with eternity.
The sound of your voice in my ear startles me alive.
My beauty ripples awake. I startle myself awake.
Body shivers still, quiet, sounds come in,
I am impressed - a singular experience in this lifetime.
The capability of my self-recognition,
recognizing the art of my choices,
remembering beyond my understanding of myself.
My beauty ripples awake. I ripple my beauty awake.
The seeds in my core fall from the tree of my life.
I plant myself firmly on the ground,
command my roots to reach deep into the ground -
I ripple my beauty awake.
The Sun rises, the Sun falls,
the Moon rises, the Moon falls –
the Moon rises, the Moon falls –
the all of the all,
ripples my beauty awake -
I choose to ripple my beauty awake.
ripples my beauty awake -
I choose to ripple my beauty awake.
~~ Other People's Fingerprints ~~
Canada First Nations, Ojibwa chant;
“And it is going to echo clearly against the sky
when I come along making my noise.”
