Image borrowed from Bing
Solstice Paddle
We were there at the mouth
of the windblown channel
Near the end of a paddle
The sky was opening up
just as it was closing down
Kokohead stood in a warrior cape
of mist above us
And below the boat rolled
the blue kingdom of knowledge.
We paused there at the culmination
of ten thousand paths:
Six travelers pulling together
in that sacred outrigger.
As the day lay down behind the crater,
One year floated up behind another
And all the births, partings and deaths
we carried with us
Grew wise, then lighter.
Joy Harjo
Posted over on her site Poetic Adventures in the Last World Blog
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