“To be native to a place, we must learn to speak its language.”
Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer
When I came into this world,
I was not a native to this land.
At the time, I knew no language,
no words, thoughts, ideas,
or even concepts of meaning.
But I grew and listened and learned.
I spent the next 60 plus years
learning a language that for all intents and purposes
barely scratches the surface
of communication between people,
much less with the life
that surrounds us on this earth.
What good is a language
where people cannot agree
on common acts of decency?
Where a human race can know for certain
that its existence is not in peril
of annihilating each other
because we can’t communicate.
What good is a language
that holds no truth
to be self-evident?
For all people?
Perhaps I expect too much of a language
and not enough of those who speak it.
Perhaps I just haven’t learned
the right words.
I have been told
there is great wisdom
in listening,
and in truth, there is great peace in just that.
Sitting, listening, breathing.
Is there a better language?
The true natives of this land,
the hawk, the deer, the bear,
all the lives not human,
know of a simpler way of living, communicating
and we still don’t know what they are saying.
We don’t have a clue.
Perhaps one day
we’ll learn. Perhaps.
Has anyone seen a pig fly?
—Paul Causey
No comments:
Post a Comment