POeT SHOTS is a monthly series published on the third Tuesday of the month. It features work by established writers followed by commentary and insight by Ed Krizek.
For Calling the Spirit Back from Wandering the Earth in Its Human FeetHard Rain
by Joy Harjo
Put down that bag of potato chips, that white bread, that bottle of pop.
Turn off that cellphone, computer, and remote control.
Open the door, then close it behind you.
Take a breath offered by friendly winds. They travel the earth gathering essences of plants to clean.
Give it back with gratitude.
If you sing it will give your spirit lift to fly to the stars’ ears and back.
Acknowledge this earth who has cared for you since you were a dream planting itself precisely within your parents’ desire.
Let your moccasin feet take you to the encampment of the guardians who have known you before time, who will be there after time. They sit before the fire that has been there without time.
Let the earth stabilize your postcolonial insecure jitters.
Be respectful of the small insects, birds and animal people who accompany you.
Ask their forgiveness for the harm we humans have brought down upon them.
Don’t worry.
The heart knows the way though there may be high-rises, interstates, checkpoints, armed soldiers, massacres, wars, and those who will despise you because they despise themselves.
The journey might take you a few hours, a day, a year, a few years, a hundred, a thousand or even more.
Watch your mind. Without training it might run away and leave your heart for the immense human feast set by the thieves of time.
Do not hold regrets.
When you find your way to the circle, to the fire kept burning by the keepers of your soul, you will be welcomed.
You must clean yourself with cedar, sage, or other healing plant.
Cut the ties you have to failure and shame.
Let go the pain you are holding in your mind, your shoulders, your heart, all the way to your feet. Let go the pain of your ancestors to make way for those who are heading in our direction.
Ask for forgiveness.
Call upon the help of those who love you. These helpers take many forms: animal, element, bird, angel, saint, stone, or ancestor.
Call your spirit back. It may be caught in corners and creases of shame, judgment, and human abuse.
You must call in a way that your spirit will want to return.
Speak to it as you would to a beloved child.
Welcome your spirit back from its wandering. It may return in pieces, in tatters. Gather them together. They will be happy to be found after being lost for so long.
Your spirit will need to sleep awhile after it is bathed and given clean clothes.
Now you can have a party. Invite everyone you know who loves and supports you. Keep room for those who have no place else to go.
Make a giveaway, and remember, keep the speeches short.
Then, you must do this: help the next person find their way through the dark.
To view Joy Harjo reading this poem, click here.
In this poem former poet laureate, Joy Harjo, writes from the perspective of a Native American whose heritage has been displaced by white consumer society. (“Put down that bag of potato chips, that white bread, that bottle of pop.”). She asks the reader to leave behind all the trappings of civilization and “[t]ake a breath offered by friendly winds.”. Harjo asks us to let ourselves be free and “[l]et your moccasin feet take you to the encampment of the guardians …” She encourages the reader to let nature, time and to “[l]et the earth stabilize your postcolonial insecure jitters.” These ideas stem from her Native American heritage. However, the poem has a message for all of us.
In a civilization compartmentalized by technology and competition everyone needs to call their spirit back from wandering the earth in its human feet. As a society we need to “[c]all your (our) spirit(s) back. It may be caught in corners and creases of shame, judgment, and human abuse.” The last statement is true for all, not just Native Americans. As art, film, and literature often currently show dystopian images, it is important for those of us so inclined to find a more harmonious way of living with nature and ourselves.
This calling back is more than being mindful which has become a popular catch phrase. A person needs to take an active role in finding the way. With the wisdom and inspiration found in the Native American perspective Harjo offers a universal imperative to everyone: “call your spirit back”! Then, of course, help “the next person.”
Ed Krizek holds a BA and MS from University of Pennsylvania, and an MBA and MPH from Columbia University. For over twenty years Ed has been studying and writing poetry. He is the author of six books of poetry: Threshold, Longwood Poems, What Lies Ahead, Swimming With Words, The Pure Land, and This Will Pass. All are available on Amazon. Ed writes for the reader who is not necessarily an initiate into the poetry community. He likes to connect with his readers on a personal level.