The Land of My Blood

Google Images
Google Images

Along the border I inch closer
to the land she once called home,
breathing in the northern smell
of pine and deep waters.

I turn westward,
leaving the crashing waves behind
for the last leg of a journey
that began a century before
when an Indian woman
died far from home
never completing her circle.

She left her lineage and people behind
to become a farmer’s wife
pretending to be what she was not.

A denial for survival
that was gone by my time
changing her course
she spoke to me in dream
planting the seeds to bring her home.

For decades, I have followed
her forgotten trail
passing many an obstacle
standing strong to our blood.

I cross into Indian time
and find I’ve come upon the land
where she ran free as a girl
fulfilling my duty to bring her back

to the Reserve of our people
where I found a place to belong
and heritage to claim
marking my journey home.

River 5/14

care for a reading

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2 thoughts on “The Land of My Blood

  1. It is the essence of life when we follow our spirit on a journey. Wherever the journey leads you is home even if it seems unfamiliar at first. It is the realization that the spirit was in charge in our lives all along and we need only stop and listen. Beautiful piece River.

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