Poem for Poet – the limineen | earthling, poet & crone

The First Time I Saw Joy Harjo

Chicago 2017

long, midnight, blue-black hair,
unmistakably hers,
melding into her pitch black jacket
an uninterrupted flowing river of velvet
she, a radiant silhouette,

like the haloed total solar eclipse that would occur later that year, in August

her regal face remains unseen, sustaining the mystery

then she rises like a sun to speak, and i am in her orbit

her first words: “i feel The Lake so very present in me.”

her voice ancient with the Earth in her throat

later,
my glisteny eyes meet her glisteny eyes,
i memorize her face, and her hands tattooed in black ink

she is dignity embodied, i think

she inscribes a protocol for me
in my book of hers, made from trees,

i give her a cord necklace
suspending glass vials of seeds
watermelon, corn, clover and milkweed from my garden in these forced-treaty lands, an onion field once, a portage between two rivers

a reciprocity for her words that seeded me, collaterally,

her poetry an eternal spring
watering my thoughts and words

i want to be worthy of the drink