We humans must revere the earth, for it is our well-being. Always the earth grants us what we need. If we treat the earth with kindness, it will trea… - N. Scott Momaday

I am an elder, and I keep the earth. When I was
a boy I first became aware of the beautiful world
in which I lived. It was a world of rich colors — red
canyons and blue mesas, green fields and yellow-
ochre sands, silver clouds, and mountains that
changed from black to charcoal to purple and iron. It
was a world of great distances. The sky was so deep
that it had no end, and the air was run through with
sparkling light. It was a world in which I was wholly
alive. I knew even then that it was mine and that I
would keep it forever in my heart. It was essential
to my being. I touch pollen to my face. I wave cedar
smoke upon my body. I am a Kiowa man. My Kiowa
name is Tsoai-talee, “Rock Tree Boy.” These are the
words of Tsoai-talee.

Meditation on Wilderness

In the evening’s orange and umber light,
There comes vagrant ducks skidding on the pond.
Together they veer inward to the reeds.
The forest — aspen, oak, and pine — recedes,
And the sky is smudged on the ridge beyond.
There is more in my soul than in my sight.

I would move to the other side of sound;
I would be among the bears, keeping still,
Not watching, waiting instead. I would dream,
And in that old bewilderment would seem
Whole in a beyond of dreams, primal will
Drawn to the center of this dark surround.

The sacred here emerges and abides.
The day burns down, the hours dissolve in time;
The bears parade the deeper continent
As silences pervade the firmament,
And wind wavers on the radiant rime.
Here is the house where wilderness resides.

I wonder if in the dark night of the sea, the octopus dreams of me.