Pipestone
by Oonah Joslin
Quarter mile distant
crumpled edge
rose quartzite quarry
sacred red
waters took them
down Winnewissa falls.
Red burn the prairies where
their blood seeped to the seam;
close beneath the quarry path
I see
by rock am seen.
The Great Spirit illuminates
bids me contemplate.
We share the rock face
to face never again to be
birdman and me
as we are now
unchanged.
Quartzite covered ancient bones became pipe stone,
Oracle of many suns and sons’ stories,
sages, springs, red clays, sumac fires.
iyansha K'api; that is to say,
‘the place where one digs the red rock’
to carve the calumet
make its stem of prairie wood
honour all that grows
leather and feather
honour all that lives
make smoke rise to the skies
honour the earth
with simple tools and sweat
Gyroscope Review 4
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