Saturday, July 8, 2023

Which way to turn

Those who read this blog with any regularity have probably realized that Joy Harjo is one of my favorite poets and writers. Today I encountered an epigram from her works in Natalie Diaz’ Postcolonial Love Poem:

I am singing a song that can only be born after losing a country.   JOY HARJO

Curious about which of Harjo’s works was the source, I entered the phrase into an internet search engine. The answer is that the epigram is from Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings, although I’m not sure from which poem. The pleasant surprise is that the answer was first found in a section of the web site of the National Trust for Historic Preservation: U.S. Poet Laureate Joy Harjo: A Life in Four Directions.

Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings  Joy Harjo
Conflict Resolution for Holy Beings
 Joy Harjo

It is very improbable I would have found the section linked above were it not for searching for the epigram. Having quickly skimmed through the National Trust section, I’ll be returning to it for a slower, more careful read sometime in the near future. I’m also curious about Harjo’s use of the four cardinal directions compared with their role in the Druidry material I’m reading. How much overlap is there between her indigenous perspective and that of the European ancients as currently interpreted and presented? As political winds continue to howl, and climate weirding intensifies, and other human induced disruptions occur with increasing frequency, I feel a growing need to determine a direction to face to keep from spinning around.


Once the World Was Perfect


Once the world was perfect, and we were happy in that world.
Then we took it for granted.
Discontent began a small rumble in the earthly mind.
Then Doubt pushed through with its spiked head.
And once Doubt ruptured the web,
All manner of demon thoughts
Jumped through—
We destroyed the world we had been given
For inspiration, for life—
Each stone of jealousy, each stone
Of fear, greed, envy, and hatred, put out the light.
No one was without a stone in his or her hand.
There we were,
Right back where we had started.
We were bumping into each other
In the dark.
And now we had no place to live, since we didn’t know
How to live with each other.
Then one of the stumbling ones took pity on another
And shared a blanket.
A spark of kindness made a light.
The light made an opening in the darkness.
Everyone worked together to make a ladder.
A Wind Clan person climbed out first into the next world,
And then the other clans, the children of those clans, their children,
And their children, all the way through time—
To now, into this morning light to you.



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