the land
is different
when you have lived there
wandered

sweated
frozen

seen the sun
set rise
disappear return

the land is different
when you know
here are roots
ancestors

Nils-Aslak Valkeapää

I am a Daughter of the Northwind

My grandmothers were born of the Northwind.
Their roots slip back through distant time to Scandinavia and found ancient path deep into North American earth before Sirius was a northern constellation. I am their daughter. They ask me to remember, to listen.

Growing up on a Salish reservation embraced by rainforest, I watched the stories Wind created as she thrilled through giant Maples and churned the bay into foam.

I listen now far away from my Northland home.
And still the wind is generous,
she carries her songs and stories into me.

I hear the voice of great-grandmother echoing across the desert,
remember the Eddas and Native myths,
they twine together into memories
of survival
and oneness with our kindred
and our planet

Painting,

I listen

to voices in the Ash and Bamboo,
Wind,
Rain
conversations of birds, bobcats

the paintings are not mine
the Northwind carries them on her back
I find them, they flow into my hands

But they do not belong to me

They belong to others
to someone who asked for it
remembers it in their heart.