The palm at the end of the mind, beyond the last thought, rises in the bronze distance. A gold feathered bird sings in the palm, without human meaning, without human feeling, a foreign song. You know then that it is not the reason that makes us happy or unhappy.
The bird sings. Its feathers shine. The palm stands on the edge of space. The wind moves slowly in the branches. The bird's fire-fangled feathers dangle down.

Saturday, October 22, 2022

Fall Song

 It's a dark fall day

The earth is slightly damp with rain.

I hear a jay.

The cry is blue.

I have found you in the story again.

Is there another word for "divine"?

I need a song that will keep sky open in my mind.

If I think behind me, I might break.

If I think forward, I lose now.

Forever will be a day like this

Strung perfectly on the necklace of days.

Slightly overcast

Yellow leaves

Your jacket hanging in the hallway

Next to mine.


--Joy Harjo

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