Drawing by Judith Wolfe

RICK SLOTTOW /

Three Poems



      Walking Bear

      Walking bear felt rain drops
      not just morning dew
      Approaching the top of this first hill
      a large pine offered shelter

      Sitting under its welcome branches
      Pancho pulled past his chin
      walking bear wonder again
      back to when his journey began

      Many moons ago a vision came
      A white stag spoke to him
      leave your comfort and journey far
      walk towards the north towards the stars

      Help and heal all you see
      Speak of natures ways
      give of your heart willingly
      Share our life as Indians

      Over the years many have walked
      With walking bear listening to him speak
      of the old way before roads were paved
      when the elders had respect

      Not like today when a Hopi chief
      Is separated form the tribe for setting tradition aside
      And placing the prophecies on the web
      For all who find to read

      Tradition says it must be spoken
      Pasted on form elder to brave
      to let white man read those words
      Is like telling the wolf to shave

      At least that is what some may say
      Those living in the past
      Those who do not talk to walking bear
      Those who did not hear the White stag speak

      Sunday 9/27/98

      I'm drawn to water
      sounds, trickle and touch
      so much more than just
      the crisp air we breathe

      Unaware I notice
      myself sitting while
      contemplating life
      still, I float down stream

      Sunday 11/27/98

      Tiny patches of blue peak hiding
      between dark intense rain
      puddles grow larger becoming
      something altogether and different

      Sudden silence speaks loud
      clearly pulling me
      back as I sit sheltered
      Still, something altogether and different


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