Ha ΄úú ΄ą (Sunrise)
The sun rose as any other sunrise,
like a light speck at the end of a tunnel.
The light caresses my knuckles. Needlessly,
to say it is yesterdays light. Not yesterday
as in the day before but like the days lost
as dust is in the wind.
The tires slap the cracks
upon the road surface
and my song dispels.
Not like driving someone away or vanishing
but more like the retelling of my young life’s memory
or my wrist movements or the location of my drum.
Each morning I drive towards the wake of sunlight
and each morning, the light hides the shadows
of mountains which are supposed to remain there.
Every part of my life passes. The longer I live
out here and away, Ik ł‘dá beedaajindánde— People of Long Ago,
the lesser the light shines as them.
I strive to caress this light
but somehow it always captures me first.
I am lost in the ruins of elongating shadow
against the western horizon,
the home of thunder and lightning.
Each morning I set out to greet them
and every morning,
I run towards them, Ik ł‘dá beedaajindánde— People of Long Ago.
I want them to save me from my solitary flight
and keep me tapping my drum.
Save me from this endless run.
I found this to be incredible. To be forever remembered in history; to reach an unreachable sun. I think we can find our way out of the shadow if we keep moving.
Thank for your comment. You are absolutely right. Outside of ourselves, we remain longing for something we can never have. Always reaching, attaining, belonging or become a part of something bright.
Wonderful. You already are a part of something bright.
Thank you Jaimie for leaving a comment and for responding to the poem. That is such a nice comment.
Cris: Captures my feelings and say everything so well.
I’m assaulted – blinded by the glare every waking hour.
Seek darkness so that I may be able to see true light. LA
Thank you LA for your kind words. Light is something we all try to reach for.