Face
This article originally appeared in Southern Exposure Vol. 13 No. 6, "We Are Here Forever: Indians of the South." Find more from that issue here.
Nowhere does the sound of thunder
Sing as when it hits the earth!
A drumstick in the hands of God …
As the People in, the circle pray
for power with the breath of sage in their veins.
And the Earth begins to take on new life.
Somewhere between darkness and the light
we find a name:
A martin-soldier staked-out in bravery
to the earth within.
A man of love
Who makes medicine the gift from the land on which he lives.
But even as his youngest son can know anger,
it is alright for a man to be mad.
To look a gift in the eyes and say "no".
To lose face.
While his heart is out searching for signs
so that others may know the Truth.
To be warrior
and still able to cry ---
Standing at the edge of water
we are only as important as our prayers.
Only as big as the River, as it moves to the sea ---
Like a piece of foxfire, our lives only burning for one night.
In its purest form, Power comes as Peace.
And even the headman must step back into the circle and sing.
As part of the People.
And part of the prayer.
Where everyone is slowly moving.
Re-entering the woods.
Lighting the red-tailed heavens with dance!
Summer Solstice
1984
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Thomas Rain Crowe
Thomas Rain Crowe is the author of Learning to Dance (Landlocked Press); founding editor of Katuah journal, a bioregional magazine for the Southern Appalachians; and director of a project to identify and protect Native American sacred sites. He was raised in the Snowbird Mountains and currently lives in Cullowhee, North Carolina. (1985)