If you breathe through the place
where you are
and return to your seed
through the stem of this body,
you will meet the ancient ancestor.
The tribe of the first people
will adopt you
and you will remember
how to play the drum
in your diaphragm
with dancing bones of love.
How to pluck the antelope
horned lyre of your heart
using the fingers of the sun,
a scent of sage in the desert
of your teardrop.
We spend so many lives
becoming “you” and “I.”
Yet there is no other power
but the way we melt
into each other,
the way we become rain,
the way we are poured
as an offering into a fire
that heals the earth.
Art by aboriginal painter Colleen Wallace
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