William Oandasan

“first there is a word the word is the song ” 1 song gives birth to the song and dance as the dance steps the story speaks 2 the icy mountain water that pierces the deep thirst drums my fire drums my medicine pouch 3 deep within my blood a feather in the sky foam on clear water Tayko-mol! 4 free as the bear and tall as redwoods throb my blood roots when spirits ride high 5 a valley ripe with acorns and yellow poppies everywhere as i stand here dreaming of you 6 jolting my dream an old man struggling with an eel      his coat appears disheveled and empty 7 in a sacred manner i sang and waited a lick of your blood i must take, reverently, deer 8 for you, blue corn baby, my thoughts on a melody of love sail the sky 9 around fire on my head a rattlesnake hisses and slithers then flies up      out of sight fighting in sleep i cry out 10 the snake in my spine is tensing for combat thoughts become forced and tight the air is a sharp knife 11 from under me today the earth was pulled balancing on a sharp mountain ridge i search for a plain 12 Tayko-mol has not left us but lives in the pulse of our words, and waits in the azure for us all

around the house stood an orchard of plum, apple and pear a blackwalnut tree, one white pine, groves of white oak and willow clumps the home of Jessie was largely redwood blood, flesh and bone sprouted inside her womb of redwood for five generations the trees now stand unpruned and wild after relocating so many years before the War the seeds of Jessie have returned afternoon sunlight on the field breezes moving grass and leaves memories with family names wait within the earth, the mountains, the valley, the field, the trees