These memories, and the stories in these words, might appear to exist in the long ago. In the short-root mind, a kind of mind of a people whose child… - Joy Harjo

In the short-root mind, a kind of mind of a people whose children don't even know the names of their great-grandparents, there is no past. Everything is right now. This kind of mind has its roots in the material culture, in what can be accumulated. My great-grandfather reminds me that we need to keep within the long-rooted mind. Because of the longer roots we have a larger structure of knowing from which to take on understanding.

You are a story fed by generations
You carry songs of grief, triumph
Loss and joy
Feel their power as they ascend
Within you
As you walk, run swiftly, even fly Into infinite possibilities

Let go that which burdens you
Let go any acts of unkindness or brutality
From or against you
Let go that which has burdened your family
Your community, your nation Or disturbed your soul
Let go one breath into another

Pray thankfulness for this Earth we are
For this becoming we are
For this sunlight touching skin we are
For the cooling of the dark we are

Listen now as Earth sheds her skin
Listen as generations move
One against the other to make power
We are bringing in a new story

We will be accompanied by ancient songs
And will celebrate together

Breathe this new dawn
Assist it as it opens its mouth
To sing.

But what captured him was a light in the river
folding open and open
blood, heart and stones
shimmering like the Milky Way.

I thought my dance alone through worlds of
odd and eccentric planets that no one else knew
would sustain me.