Daniel Henry Rodgers | + Follow Poet |
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She Carries TUKAHOK In Her Chest

she is matawàhkwí
of the pullaook — turkey clan
she is lenni lenape

born where marsh meets
sky’s reflection
where grass (aski) bends
to east wind (achpateuny)
and water (mbi) feeds
all it touches

the year's spirit
in spiral moons
not lines on paper

each moon
opens its hand
offers its gift
praised with ceremony and song

—

PLANTING MOON
(ehakeehaawee keeshoox)

ice loosens
its grip on the river

we harvest shad (shëwanamèkw)
and sturgeon (weesaho'seed)
silver bodies
heavy with promise

women turn the earth
for the three sisters
corn (xàskwim) reaching
toward grandfather sun
beans (malàxkwsita) climbing
like children up trees
squash (mahkahkw) spreading
to keep the earth covered

we offer smoke
to the creator at planting
asking for gentle sun
fertile soil
and that our children
remember these hands
in the ground.

—

STRAWBERRY MOON
(wtaaheemowee keeshoox) — the ocean’s call

the sun walks
its longest path

we gather blueberries
blackberries (axkwoakee'lenes)
in ritual silence,

rake clams (paw'kway)
where salt marsh breathes

under moonlight
we spear eel (màsi)
in water that mirrors
ancestor faces

when august calls
when the ocean’s voice grows loudest
we step into salt
send our songs
out on the sea breeze.

sand underfoot
hands rising
where marsh light breaks horizon

we celebrate the ocean’s power
its rhythm tied to our own hearts
our place in the turning
the tide shouldering back
along remembered channel

at river’s edge
at ocean’s shore
we pray
giving thanks
for food
that feeds both body and story.

—

CORN MOON
(xwaskwaamwee keeshoox)

the marsh smells
of salt and turning reeds

we pull corn (xàskwim)
from stalks
hang it as offering
to the coming cold

we gather cranberries (pa'keem)
where they bleed
into autumn water

what grows in shallows
wild rice (manáhpèn)
singing water’s song
we call it gift
from mbi’s throat.

men gather nuts
hickory (simin)
black walnut (tùkwim)
ritual offerings
to forest elders

in pit ceremonies
we smoke fish
venison
corn

holding the moon
in woven baskets
storing light
for the hungry season

—

HUNTING MOON
(alauwee keeshoox)

leaves descend
their farewells

we walk deer (waheelay) trails
in sacred stillness
track bear (mihs)
in hollow woods

our baskets hold
dried berries
nuts
smoked fish

gifts for feast
by hearthlight
when world sleeps
and stories awaken

root crops wait
beneath snow’s promise
patient as the earth
that taught us patience

—

THE BREAKING
what came after

we lived this way
moon after moon
ceremony blessed
into harvest
into thanks

until others came
with measured steps
foreign laws
carving the marsh into lines
forgetting how to listen
to names of things

they brought papers
that said
we didn’t exist

schools stole
our children's voices
disease emptied
our longhouses
faster than winter
empties trees

but some learned
to carry home
in breath
to hide sacred
in heartbeat
until it was safe
to sing again

—

THE TEACHING
what she tells her children now

i did not forget

my grandmother’s hands
move through mine
when i braid sweetgrass (mawënk)

her voice rises
when i teach moon names
to babies
who grow up
in a world
that pretends
we never existed

say tùkáhòk
so the water (mbi) will still know you
speak it
so grass (aski) bends toward you
when you pass

learn the taste
of cranberries (pa'keem) on your tongue
know which plants heal
which roots feed
which ceremonies
call the rain

when they ask
if you're native enough
say:
i carry ancestors
in my blood
my clan in my name
my homeland
in every breath

say:
i am lenni lenape

—

THE CONTINUANCE
where i’ll be when my voice grows quiet

i walk the turtle’s path
steady
carrying home
in every step

my daughter
speaks lenape
to her newborn son

my grandson
will count moons
not months
will measure season
by ceremony
not calendar

when my voice grows quiet
you will find me
in salt wind at dawn
in heron’s (mahkw or kchi heron) cry
at sunrise
in taste of clam broth (paw'kway)
on cold mornings

—

THE RETURN
what we do now, every august

each summer
we come back
not all of us
not permanently
but enough

my children
drive from the city
with laptops
law degrees
mixed-race babies
babbling in three languages
but dreaming in lenape

we gather
at the shore
our ancestors were forced to leave

we wade into atlantic
with offerings
tobacco (puhkay) in newspaper
corn pollen
tears tasting
like salt water
that tastes
like going home

strangers pause
lenses lifted
we keep singing

but ocean knows
ocean has waited
400 years
for this conversation
to resume

when climate change floods
these same shores
we’ll be here

the ones who never left
who remember
how to read water’s (mbi) warning
how to move
with the earth
instead of against it

in august ocean’s heartbeat
as we celebrate
and pray by the shore
i feel the ancestors
approving

—

THE PROMISE

say tùkáhòk
and place will answer

say it
in language they tried to kill
in voice they tried to silence
for children
they will try to steal

say it
until marsh remembers
our true names
until water (mbi) flows
with our prayers again
until earth
recognizes the footsteps
of her lenni lenape children
coming home

tùkáhòk
tùkáhòk
tùkáhòk

we are still here
braided
into river’s bend
where wild turnip grows
where land
says its name again:

tuckahoe

Please Login to post a comment

I Am Anaya Date: 9/4/2025 11:09:00 AM More than beautiful tribute to the Lenni Lenape (rivers) deeply described with love, I enjoyed the journey. I appreciate the beautifully written language accompanied. Tùkáhòk! May you have many more inspirations such as this Daniel, my poet friend~ Login to Reply

Andrea Dietrich Date: 9/3/2025 2:08:00 PM I like how the native Americans were so close to nature and this poem shows their deep respect for nature and the way they reverenced her. I like the use of shorter lines and the different titles mini chapters if their story. Very interesting info. Login to Reply

CayCay Jennings Date: 8/28/2025 8:13:00 AM I've always felt connected to Native Americans. I live outraged by what America did to them. Their world/ways destroyed yet they live quiet. In Maryland, the Accohanock once thrived. I dated a tribe member for a few years & during that time the tribe adopted Kyle. It was incredibly special. I am moved by the authentic feel in your poem, if you aren't part Indian then your pen did a great job conveying otherwise. Your familiarity w/ the lang., all stanzas amazing. Box is too small for my comm Login to Reply Daniel Henry Rodgers Date: 9/2/2025 11:02:00 AM Dear CayCay, Your words mean the world to me. Thank you for sharing your connection and the story of the Accohanock and Kyle’s adoption, that’s powerful and beautiful. I’m touched that the poem felt authentic to you, even in language and spirit. Your encouragement and friendship always lift me higher. Blessings, Dear CayCay, Daniel

Anne Winter Date: 8/28/2025 5:58:00 AM Dearest Daniel, the poem is a beautiful tribute to the Lenni Lenape people's connection with nature, their culture, and their resilience. The use of native words and descriptions of traditional practices creates a vivid picture of their way of life. The poem also touches on the historical trauma and forced assimilation they faced, but ultimately conveys a message of hope and continuation.The structure, which follows the cycle of the seasons, is particularly effective. With love and respect, Anne Login to Reply Daniel Henry Rodgers Date: 9/2/2025 11:00:00 AM Dearest Anne— Your message moved me deeply. I’m grateful you felt the tribute and saw both the resilience and hope woven through their story. The seasonal structure mirrors the cycles they honored. Thank you, dear friend, for reading with such love and respect. Blessings, Dear Anne, Daniel

Hilda Greenhough Date: 8/27/2025 12:51:00 PM I appreciate your recognition of the keeper of the land, the Native Americans. Enjoy the last days of summer. Huskanowa. Login to Reply Daniel Henry Rodgers Date: 9/2/2025 10:58:00 AM Dear Hilda, what a sweet and blessed note and I am so grateful. Blesssings, Hilda, Daniel, Huskanowa!

David Crandall Date: 8/26/2025 7:39:00 PM Interesting, thanks for bringing me into this native American experience, with its spirituality and appreciation for nature. Login to Reply Daniel Henry Rodgers Date: 9/2/2025 10:57:00 AM Hello David, I have always had a heart for our native americans and their way of life. I have native american in my background that goes back many generations. Thank you for your visit. Blessings, David, Daniel

Sara Etgen-Baker Date: 8/26/2025 4:27:00 PM I enjoyed reading your poem and soaking up the cutlural and historical refernces within the lines, etc. You've captured the beautiful spirit of these native Americans. My dad would've loved this poem; he told me many stories especially about the Caddo and Tawakoni Indians of East Texas. have a blessed evening, Sara Login to Reply Daniel Henry Rodgers Date: 9/2/2025 10:56:00 AM Dear Sara, Your note touched me more than you know. I love that the poem brought back memories of your dad and the stories he shared about the Caddo and Tawakoni. That kind of connection is what makes writing feel alive. Thank you, dear friend, wishing you a blessed day too. Blessings, Sara, Daniel

Victor Buhagiar Date: 8/26/2025 2:09:00 AM You floored me with this poem. So many native words that for me living far away are a mystery. So many cultures and you are a great poet and expert. Nature plays a great part in this poem. Login to Reply Daniel Henry Rodgers Date: 9/2/2025 10:55:00 AM Victor— Dear Victor, your words mean a lot. I get what you’re saying about the native terms feeling mysterious from far away and I feel the same sometimes. That you still connected with the heartbeat of nature in the poem really lifts me. Grateful for your friendship and encouragement always. Blessings, Victor, Daniel

Yann Rolland Date: 8/25/2025 2:03:00 PM so interesting, i am so curious of new languages, and renewal of native cultures, who seek communion with nature can be happy, this is a great tribute to poetry, dear friend, enjoyed the message and work Login to Reply Daniel Henry Rodgers Date: 9/2/2025 10:53:00 AM Dear Yann Thank you! I love that you connected with the themes of language, renewal, and communion with nature. Your curiosity and appreciation mean so much. Grateful for your thoughtful words and friendship always. Blessings, Yann, Daniel

Bill Baker Date: 8/25/2025 11:18:00 AM I could feel the reverence for the river and all nature in this beautiful poem, Daniel. I felt a presence and respect for past generation as I read on. This was a very engaging and meaningful poem to me. Thanks for sharing that which is meaningful with us through your exquisite poetry, my friend. Bill Login to Reply Daniel Henry Rodgers Date: 9/2/2025 10:51:00 AM Hello Bill, Wow, your note really made my day! I liked that you felt the river’s presence and the quiet reverence for the generations before us. Sharing these poems feels even richer knowing you’re walking alongside them, noticing what truly matters. Thank you, my friend, for your heart and your wonderful insight. Blessings, Bill, Daniel