native

i am native
here; my blood is real, it is long, it runs deep
like the river of my spirit, i cloth my skin in your skin
brother it is my skin ,the length of it, the longing
of it to movement - towards the great waters - towards
the laughter of the crow-bird, of the fleeting fox, i

am women
i dance to the rivers within me, i dance to
those spirits i carry they
dance to be born...
they dance to be born...through my river...

i am native, i
am woman
i dance to the songs of the mother who sings
to me, to my spirit whole and long with breasts unbound
by words un-tongued; i am ritual
the rain weeps on my feathered wing and

i dance

it calls me run, it
calls me dance
it calls me dance towards the dusk time red and starring
towards the morning dark longing for my light, i call
the wind, i call its eagle, i call the unborn
to sing and quicken within, i am native
i am woman

skinned in my sacred brother

i dance

bkmacenzie 2019
copyrighted


in honor of my beautiful mother...whose dance was not long enough

imaginary garden with real toads