Myanmar

Hear the bells in their tiniest voices
Dripping as water....
Embracing you

We love you...
Its sound sings....

We are you....

Where human dreams of freedom are a river
That cannot die....

Irrawaddy

Washita...

We are you....
We are you....

Its sound sings....

For Kyal Sin, known as Angel
Young activist killed by Burmese police

Irrawaddy, Burmese river

© 2021 Lance Henson

vo’e

vo’e*

these are the ones who enfold light
causing it to strike the earth
the ones who
caress silence
their older sister

the ones that hover over
the wintering water

the ones who spin
their angry eye upon us

the ones who gather above us
as we dream

these are the ones who unfurl
the grown moon...

*vo’e: Cheyenne for clouds

© 2021 Lance Henson

entities (part 2)

These are the ones that stay with us, dawns of voices waking inside their secret language of journeying where the living and others traveling inside us are a movement of dreams tasting our breath as we waken….here are the fingerprints of rain on our windows watching us as we turn out of sleep into the world

 

© 2021 Lance Henson (poem-image)

dawn…

dawn…..

 

A beaver slaps the water of a still creek

The unmarked graves where you

have lain for a hundred years

 

Awakening on the frozen back of a sleeping

Coyote

 

Far from where

the demons reside

As the temperature drops to its knees

We watch from our hidden balcony

Inside a sheet of rain….

 

Men folding themselves into paper planes

That cannot fly….

 

From the stronghold

Badger song

December 8 20.

Now you have awakened

Now you have awakened
In another place

What will you sing in your sweet voice
The Cheyenne horses you are following
Taking you home….

Your form made of eternity and silent rain…

Brother….

We carry you with us

You are a part
Of our belongings….

Memorium
For my brother
John William West
Kit Fox Clan
Cheyenne Nation of Oklahoma
1952/2020

Ainoh

Ainoh

Scenting the small deepening in the leaves

Arrived from the lighted rivers

The haunted 

silent rivers

The 

bloodied 

dying rivers….

 

Where at their banks winter prepares its messengers….

 

This is the day of absences

The day of singing….

 

Where the dead and the living

 

Are inside us….

 

Tsistsistas name for winter hawk

From the photo of my sister barbara bartlett

Who ainoh visited for two days in queens ny.