Lately, my morning ritual is to drink my coffee outside, facing the rising sun while reading poetry, writing and sitting in silence. Well, mostly silent—Ember is usually there with me. She sits beside me in her little blue rocking chair, even her toddler self seams to relax into the moment and she enjoys a good poem now and again. Makes my heart sing. I think her favorite is Mary Oliver. I look forward to this time more than anything and find that I don’t feel whole if I miss a morning. Joy Harjo’s work is one of my favorite companions during this time. Her work feels very raw and from that place of vulnerability comes a sacred power. Here is one of my recent favorites…
Song for the Deer and Myself to Return on
by Joy Harjo
This morning when I looked out the roof window
before dawn and a few stars were still caught
in the fragile weft of ebony night
I was overwhelmed. I sang the song Louis taught me:
a song to call the deer in Creek, when hunting,
and I am certainly hunting something as magic as deer
in this city far from the hammock of my mother’s belly.
It works, of course, and deer came into this room
and wondered at finding themselves
in a house near downtown Denver.
Now the deer and I are trying to figure out a song
to get them back, to get all of us back,
because if it works I’m going with them.
And it’s too early to call Louis
and nearly too late to go home.
–from the book In Mad Love and War by: Joy Harjo