And this poem also speaks to the strength of the Navajo woman
from the [INAUDIBLE] area.
It's called, "A Navajo Woman's Compassion, and the White Man's
Response."
The hand motions to the rising sun, making a beautiful path
of old age with sacred corn pollen which
sprinkles from between the thumb and the index finger.
A rugged face of an old woman shows
years of working and living.
From the tenaciousness a faint landscape
now slipping from memory.
Her voice penetrates the vast emptiness.
Earth my Mother.
Sun carrier my Father.
We are your children.
In your womb, Earth Mother, we felt warm
and learned about love.
Beneath your glare, Sun carrier Father,
we learned about patience and perseverance.
In your encounter may we discover harmony, and may
we walk in beauty.
Her voice brings the still vastness to life.
Years later in the lifeless house
provided by the great white Father
her mind wanders back to Big Mountain, Black Mesa the land
she loves so.
His God, merciless, made tears run down her grooved cheeks
like rain water that once streamed down [? Arroyo. ?]
Her last quick glance at the land
brought images of machines raping Mother Earth,
tearing out her liver, her heart.
And she felt the pain too, for she is of the Earth.
A little child was born, and a big one too.
No, not monster slayer.
A child born of water.
Little boy, big boy.
Atomic brothers to destroy Sun Carrier Father.
Earth Mother is not unfaithful.
Earth Mother you are not unfaithful.
Modern technology rapes, begets bastards.
America lives where justice lives.
Where justice protect both the bad, and at times the good.
We are blessed children today.
We live.
Yes, even the Prodigal Son will feast.
Rape, bastard, twins, monsters, whore, death.
The Great Wall of China trembles for past glories.
Concrete and steel buildings shatter
for strength of the day.
A shuttle explodes with priceless knowledge
for security of the future.
Where are the human beings, possessors
of Earth, caretakers of Earth.
Look there his head, there her finger, and there their eyes.
I cannot see where is the brain.
It just splattered beneath your step.
Blood oozes from cracked ground, and refuses to dry.
Clouds of Puritan dust prevent Sun Carrier Father
from claiming what is his.
Death rains.
Satan, or is it Reagan?
Where is Uncle Sam?
Uncle who?
Oh, Uncle Sam.
He is socializing Guatemala.
Sipping a drink in Lebanon.
The spinning world, gravity.
Somewhere in Washington, perhaps in the Plaza people
are laughing, smiling.
Look, listen.
Yeah, I was born in the USA.
Born free, Statue of Liberty.
Donate to her Majesty's makeup.
You know what she stands for?
No.
Yes.
Democracy and freedom I bet?
No.
Inequity, imperial capitalism, Weni, widi, wiki.
Ultimate death, destruction, total oblivion, black hole.
America is still giving birth to maternity dreams
of the founding fathers.
Lifeless and feelingless children raping Mother Earth.
Incest rules.
Atomic brothers, nuclear sisters,
beauty in brotherly pollution.
Long life, ancestorly cancer.
Still her waving voice meets the in rolling darkness.
Yellow, sacred cornmeal prepares the way.
The Navajo woman from Big Mountain, her voice
sets with the sun.
Earth my dear Mother, we come from you.
We return to you.