Where are my sisters?

2009

Bear Hills, Saskatchewan

Longing and craving the space only the Bear Hills can give,

a sacred place,

years of bison

and ancient people roaming the land,

in and out of coyote holes,

hunting deer, snaring rabbits in the scrub.

From the car window, speed and thrill

one more hill to descend,

from the bicycle, wind blasting,

on foot, endless as the sky.

Here

alone

does not exist,

there’s connection

to spirit,

to centuries of history stored in each seed,

to the exquisiteness of a blade of spear grass

it only makes sense those vision seekers

would come

to you,

lie down on those hard stones placed centuries ago to create

some sort of comfort

shelter

and wait for the vision.

I have a vision.

it’s us, together

walking the hills

in and out of cow tracks,

hearing it’sits history through the hawk’s calls,

finding the bones and seeing the trails of carts gone by

moving in laughter

sometimes in anger

always braveness

witnessing it all and our own absolute beauty.