TEACH ME HOW TO BOW
I can be jealous of the way you love…
That you bend to kiss the morning,
And kneel to thank the night …
And hold the sacred passage of things.
A reverence so natural – married hands meeting your lowered brow.
You touch silence,
and know – GREAT SPIRIT,
While my mom bought apples in the store.
A city girl – I thought fruit grew on shelves.
No one showed me the language of the earth…
That a tree could talk, the wind has ears,
and animals run wild with messages from god.
My world runs on batteries – technical and fast.
Things are black and silver.
I run to catch time.
I never stop.
Oh, teach me emerald green,
and majestic blue.
and to honor the footprints of bears.
I want what you still have,
Though we trampled and murdered and drained your blood,
And took your land and your children and your heart
and tried for your soul.
We could not take your bow.
Teach me how to bow.
Teach us all how to bow.
Then, I think maybe, could be, the world would be okay.
In lowered reverence, there must be a secret song to life.
