McClintock, Blackfoot Camp at Night, 1903
HUNTER'S MOON -- EATING the BEAR
Good friend,
it is a long afternoon.
The shadows of the pines are blue on the field.
When I find you,
I am going to turn the world inside out.
The rocks around you will melt,
your heart will fall from your body.
And I will step out over the fields,
Good friend,
when I crouch beside the blades of fire,
holding a piece of your life on a knife-tip,
I will be leaning in like a spoke to the hub -
the dense orb that is all of us.
my body like a cupped hand
And I will put you into my mouth, yes.
And I will swallow, yes.
So. You will come to live inside me:
muscle, layers of sweet leaves
hidden in the pink fat, the maroon flesh.
holding your vast power, your grace,
Good friend,
the sun going down will signal
the end of the day, around me
your breath, your hairiness,
the pines you can no longer see
will be twisted and small, their shadows
stretching out, still turning around
in the small sinews of my prayers.
some invisible dead center.
Mary Oliver
CONNECT
HUNTER'S MOON -- EATING the BEAR
Good friend,
it is a long afternoon.
The shadows of the pines are blue on the field.
When I find you,
I am going to turn the world inside out.
The rocks around you will melt,
your heart will fall from your body.
And I will step out over the fields,
Good friend,
when I crouch beside the blades of fire,
holding a piece of your life on a knife-tip,
I will be leaning in like a spoke to the hub -
the dense orb that is all of us.
my body like a cupped hand
And I will put you into my mouth, yes.
And I will swallow, yes.
So. You will come to live inside me:
muscle, layers of sweet leaves
hidden in the pink fat, the maroon flesh.
holding your vast power, your grace,
Good friend,
the sun going down will signal
the end of the day, around me
your breath, your hairiness,
the pines you can no longer see
will be twisted and small, their shadows
stretching out, still turning around
in the small sinews of my prayers.
some invisible dead center.
Mary Oliver
CONNECT
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