Letter 30 – The Watershed’s Heartbeat

(As Goes the River – So Go the People)

 

Blend of tongues   Lushootseed  &  her Majesty’s.

Your skin is showing through holes in your

spirit.   Subtly above the Slaughter   cutting

into September

the harvest moon is only a thin sliver who’s appearance gives me a

rush on a lonely Friday night.    Blend

of waters  -

your Stuck

river trucks Glacier melt past its mutilation     into the battered estuary.

 

Let it alone    All the poor river was trying to do was to find

the west bluff & if people wd leave it alone, it wd eventually find its proper channel.

Whirls

of water from the giant sacred mountain   are guides for

your though patterns.   The kink-haired/peace-eyed/tie-playing bard says your

brain can

fit

in

w/ these whirls (whorls)    the rhythm of home  -  synchronize your blood

the watershed’s pulse  -  she who has the

contours

of rhythm   has the secrets of

the world.  To

ground yourself in a sense of place

you will want to haul every man-made mutilation through your

love of these watery tendrils  -  love of these watery tendrils

 

for each tribe knows where the universe started.

When you look under your boot soles   you see

the ground holy & the river holiest of all.

Curves the river needs  -  curves the fish needs   curves

of

your daily life may be

spirit detouring you around discomfort  disaster   Aho Siab!   back into

flow.   (The oldest woman knows. Her smile’s a good sign.)  Flow

out beyond what the first voice says.  There are voices deeper

to guide you to an

embrace gentle.   Follow

the watershed’s heartbeat.   See

curves of her shape   curves

of

the mutilated river that’s been plowed through the

land  -  river that moves despite being Stuck.  Staq.

 

That’s a roar before a meander.  Staq   in one shape

love takes.   Staq

that’s the meaning of villages before the nightmare of machines.   Staq

habitat  still life w/ heron  and  silver  star-guided fish kings.   Staq

that’s

the Mother’s blood

kissing its way to the source of all life.   Staq  -  holder

of Tahoma’s secrets & lessons intense for occupied humans.   Staq  -

landforms sprout when the Mother gets an itch.   Staq

 

w/ your future in mind   here   this flesh returns to ash.   Staq w/

your breath in its hands  -  your only recourse is to tie your

soul to its heartbeat.   Staq – w/ the planet in mind  -  the cure to end this Slaughter. 

 

8:52AM - 8.30.03

(Starter phrase taken from Ed Sanders

Spiritual Topography. Quote from Dave Hart )