Poetry and living — they’re often the same thing. - Joy Harjo

DIRECTIONS TO YOU Rainy Dawn Ortiz Follow them, stop, turn around Go the other way. Left, right, Mine, yours. We become lost, Unsteady. Take a deep breath, Pray. You will not always be lost. You are right here, In your time, In your place. 1. North Star, guidance as we look up To the brightest white Hoping it leads you to where you want to go, Hoping that it knows where you should be. We find our peace here in the white, Gather our strength, our breath, and learn how to be. 2. East The sun rises, Red, Morning heat on our face even on the coldest morning. The sun creates life, Energy, Nourishment. Gather strength, pull it in Be right where you are. 3. South Butterfly flits Spreads yellow beauty. We have come to this moment in time Step by step, We don’t always listen to directions, We let the current carry us, Push us, Force us along the path. We stumble, Get up and keep moving. 4. West Sunsets, brings Darkness, Brings black. We find solitude, Time to take in breath and Pray. Even in darkness you Can be found. Call out even in a whisper Or whimper, You will be heard. To find, To be found, To be understood, To be seen, Heard, felt. You are, Breath. You are, Memory. You are, Touch. You are, Right here.

I think the natural movement of love is an opening, a place that makes connections...You have to be open in that way to write a poem that really works, and I think there's always love involved in the act of creation.

A family is essentially a field of stories, each intricately connected. Death does not sever the connection; rather, the story expands as it continues unwinding inter-dimensionally