Nind Ab (Home)
November 2, 2005
We spent days with mud on our hands,
Gathering branches,
Gathering bark,
Gathering sticks,
The grass below our feet,
The sun rose and fell,
The birds gave us a song,
We built in silence,
We built in laughter,
We built a new home,
In the evening,
Our work done,
We laugh around the fire,
Secure,
Safe,
Cradled in the womb of our Mother.
LeToya – Lady Love
1 hour ago
5 voices speak:
This brings a smile on my face. The end makes me feel secure. :)
beautiful. I feel waves of nostalgia when I read this. Holding both opposites, the joy and the loss.
Dollyspeaks - I am glad it brings a smile to you face!
Sloth Womyn - Yeah does have that feel of nostalgia holding both joy and loss, doesn't it?
This poem reflects a lot of tribal life in the Great Lakes. I write with how I feel things were through the ancestors.
Thank you for the beautiful poem!
My husband is a writer as well. He has distant Passamaquoddy ancestry - and this often comes through in his work.
Shanna - Your welcome! Yes, I feel the Ojibway wisdom just flows out as I write my poetry.
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