Confusion … Jeremy Blackwater

Confusion

Jeremy Blackwater

…

His hand plants itself

On his forehead

Like he could beat

The answers in his head.

…

His jaw tightens

Sullenness sits on his face.

“I don’t know”

He growls.

…

I simplify the steps

Choosing a soft tone

Careful not to look

Giving plenty of time

…

His eyes flicker

Waiting for me

To shame or blame

We both wait.

…

What will you do first?

I look down at the paper

He looks too.

He picks up his pencil.

…

“Cool,” I say.

Startled he stops.

After some quiet

He starts again.

…

More time passes

His shoulders hunch over

Like a vulture

He doesn’t quit.

…

His head jerks up.

Eyes open wide

“I get it, I get it.”

“It’s so simple.”

…

“Way to go,” I say.

“You worked it through.”

His mouth drops open.

“I was good?”

…

I nod, smiling

All it took

Was staying out of his way

And silence.

Grandfather by Jeremy Blackwater

On the Memory of Grandfather’s Dying

Jeremy Blackwater

…

The eyes fade out.

The fingers loosen

His breathing goes in and out

He lets go, sighing.

I can’t, shaken.

…

I want to remember

His walking through the bush.

How did his mouth tighten?

What did he do before he sat down?

Did his head tilt this way?

…

I’m losing the details.

Everything creeps to the edge

I can’t even remember his smile,

Until I see it on my brother’s face.

…

Walk with him, Great Spirit.

Do not let go.

Don’t let me go either.

Whisper to me in the wind.

Fly before me red hawk

…

Move your branches in my face.

Walk beside me in this place.

Don’t let me forget

As we sink into this earth.

This is where all things rest.

Realistic Expectations by Kaze

Realistic Expectation by Kaze Gadway

“You know you don’t have to eat that.” The man laughs softly as I bite into a pasty handed to me by a street person.

“I’m okay,” I grin. “I like people who share.”

“I do too. It makes my day when someone is generous.” He waves at us and walks away.

Switching from a world of plenty to a world of scarcity and back again has been the pattern for my adult life. My assumptions keep turning upside down.

When I am with well dressed, well rested, well fed people, the conversation stays on small irritants. I fall into the assumption that they are not interested in profound things so I do not often raise subjects beyond the petty. That is so judgmental.

Perhaps because life seems to be ready to collapse within itself at any hardship on the streets, I have deep conversations with the homeless. Perhaps, for all of us, it is when our understanding and circumstances collapse that we reach for meaning and substance. So it should not surprise me that those sleeping on the sidewalk are more ready to talk about change and expectations.

Yet, my first profound conversations started with people like me, with those who have the leisure time to read, to attend college and sit around to ask questions. Most of my closest friends with whom I talk deeply are those who are advantaged.

Now I am beginning to understand that the comfortable people with whom I talk have had these disturbing moments—an alcoholic father, a mentally ill relative, a fire in which everything has been destroyed, and encounters with violence. Many are those who live with a façade over deep thinking. If they do not know how to cope, then they spread pseudo calm over their faces as though to say “nothing bothers me.” Or “I can cope as long as others don’t know how bad it is.”

Those on the streets have more realistic expectations for the most part and they no longer have to look unmoved. Their pain is out there for everyone to see.

It is not that the poor are better than the comfortable. I find it easier to talk to those who don’t feel they have to posture.

When I say that I am blessed by talking with the street people, I mean that they keep me honest.

Prayer by Spirit Journey Youth by Kaze

Prayer by Spirit Journey Youth

Great Spirit, who is the creator of all things on Mother Earth, the things that crawl, or swim or fly or just sit there.  We give you thanks for Mother Earth and the life she gives us.

We pray for the Native cultures to stay alive as we move on to the new generation.  We pray that the traditions, the language, and the ceremonies may come back together as they used to be so that we do not destroy the earth and we do exploit  the resources of the trees and forests, rivers and oceans, and all that the Creator has given us.

We ask your blessing  for our families, ourselves as leaders  and our nations as strong.

We pray for those who are in need;  the prisoners, the homeless, and the addicted that we may make an impact for good and increase our wholeness.

In the name of the Creator who gives us all things. Amen

On the Death of a Friend by Nathan Blackwater

Its 2 Much

by Nathan Blackwater

It’s not the hurt, its not the pain

Its the voice wid you that screams insane.

Dont weep, dont cry, show no fear

Mellow out, dont let it near.

Be in charge. Just be a man

Throw it out and see what lands.

Its 2 much, I cant hide

Hes gone from us, so let it ride.

Get it out, dont turn away

He wont be back, Death has its say.

I pray to God, dont let this be.

God says “U fool” dont you see.

Hes wid me, Im not the foe

Get wid crying, then let go.

Confining Images, Jay Begay

Confining Images by Jay Begay

My best friends and I (Jeremy and Jacob) talk a lot about past and present images we have of God. We agree that we all used to believe there was a big superperson(mainly white) living far away who manipulated us into doing the right thing. Then we started discussions in the Spirit Journey Youth and realized that something unusual and good happens not far away but within ourselves and encounters with people and nature.

The best image we now have is that God is what we name as the source of goodness and holiness. This source is felt, seen and heard in specific things that we encounter. Rain reveals this source to me, as do the sparkle  in a homeless man who feels good about himself, or just laughing at silly things or the love of my girlfriend.  It is the source that is important, not the image found in specific religions.

Metaphors are good for talking about this source. When I thank the Great Spirit for 4 legged, 2 legged, things that swim or crawl or just sit there, I feel related to all creation and my images have a great wind that swirls around everything in sight. And I feel complete.

When I am complete I enjoy being kind, laughing with others, working hard and just sitting around.

Perhaps we need another name than “god.” The source that lets me know that I am complete fills me with new eyes to see holiness everywhere.

I love reading and talking with people who have different images of “god” but who experience sacredness.

Awake by Joe Begay

Awake by Joseph Begay

 

I am sitting in sorrow

Seeing no way out

Hating my insides

That twist and turn

 

But you  Lord,

Keep prodding me to wake up.

You do not let me waste away

In sleep or mellowing out.

 

You keep me alive

With your insistence

That I care

For more than myself.

 

Thank you O Creator.

 

 

Clothed by Maggie Nez

Clothed by Maggie Nez

How we are clothed seems to be a theme in the scriptures. We are clothed in God’s goodness. We are clothed in light. We are clothed in protection against evil. We are clothed in God’s love.

When I see the homeless who have only the one thing to wear, I wonder how they understand these metaphors.

Many are clothed in fear, in anxiety, and in loneliness.

Yet some are clothed in kindness and thanksgiving and compassion. Somehow they know that they are more than just street people.  I find great peace in talking with them.

Bad Habits by Kinda

Bad Habits by Kinda Yazee

I didn’t think that moving away from a small border town would change me so much. It has. I used to hang around my friends doing nothing, being bored. We did some shoplifting and drinking and going out with boys.

Then I joined the youth group and started going on the leadership training events in Colorado. I couldn’t believe that people lived a different way, people who were interested in what I did. I was ashamed that I never had anything interesting to tell them.

I would look at the breakfast table they used for meals. It shocked me that families sat down together to eat and talk and that they had a table for it. We always sat on the couch or stood up. We ate together only at ceremonies and that was outside or in the living room. We didn’t have a table for it.

What got me the most is that people in Colorado assumed that I could choose the way I lived; that there wasn’t some bad in me that stopped me. They really thought that I had it in me and I didn’t have to wait. That was important. I didn’t have to be a better person before I chose different.

Now I live in a college town. I have a church family. I live with my cousin who has a great job. I have a steady job that I can move up in. I am taking community college classes. I have a bike. I have new friends who all have interesting lives. They think my life is interesting too.

There are so many things to do in this town. And there are a lot of Natives and other cultures who enjoy not being bored by doing the same old thing.

Here is my prayer to the Creator. “Holy Grandfather, Creator of all things, I used to think I had to take whatever is dished out to me but now I know better. Thank you for connecting with me and showing me that I have choices. Thank you for showing me others who need help. Thank you for putting me in new places that challenges me.  Thank you for making the darkness inside me go away. In the name of the God who lives among us in beauty. Amen.

I want my name back. A story by Kaze Gadway

“I want my name back” by Kaze Gadway

“Hey, want some water,” I call out.

A man in his twenties comes over with eyes darting around.

“I remember you from last week,” I say. “How have you been doing?”

We exchange names again and he starts talking.

“The police told me I can’t sleep here so I had to move twice last night. Look!” He shows me his picture I.D. “I have a name. Just because I sleep on the street doesn’t mean that I am nothing.”

He shows me his Social Security card. “Look! I’ve worked. I’ve made my way. I don’t have a job now but I still look for one. I have all this identification and they still refuse to say my name. You call me by my name. What’s wrong with them?”

He looks away from me as though the distant air can give him answers.

“All I want is my name back. Is that too much to ask?”