— Kathie Issac-Luke

In the stillness of this clearing
where I go to puzzle
how we arrived at this divergence

the only sounds that permeate
are echoes of those
who chanced here before us,

the women kneeling at the stream
drawing water into a sheath of skins,
the hunter paying homage to his prey.

Then I know what is important
are not these scraps of paper
used to record each rite of passage,

not even these words,
however carefully chosen,
but the heed with which we honor

connections threaded between us,
the grace by which we accept
our place in this unfolding.

One thought on “Slipstream

  1. This is a poem that transcends words. Its sentiment embraces the present and past, the personal and the whole of humanity. There are times when I am at an old building or walking through the woods, and I feel history wash over me, how someone has come before me and in whose tracks I follow, and I am at a lost for words. This poem brings such a feeling to me.

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