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Coming Of Age, The Rite
Coming of Age “The Rite”
a tender voice recites, a muses lyrics flow
non-believers poison waterways abusing Earth Mother
causing her to unleash winds blown hotter, dryer...
perennial white blossoms swoon and
dangle from sterling chaste trees
twisted bark mimics their braided sacred hair
Algonquin echoes stemming
elders’ granddaughters amble amid cracked twigs
cascading streams align to augur promising paths
within bison pelt tepees await knowledge keepers
fire and smoke, dense and opaque
bittersweet melancholy
broadleaves tremble, breathe and sway
severing the braid, the child from the woman
ushering forth her very being
Coming of age is a rite amongst Cree people, Mother Earth’s spiritual relationship among all living things, transition is significant, as we are wedded to nature’s perennial sentients. Let the path before us grow wider and brighter for our future generations.
Copyright ©
I Am Anaya
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