.
I thought that the world was a vast system of signs,
a conversation between giant beings.
My actions, the cricket's saw, the star's blink, were nothing but pauses and syllables, scattered phrases from that dialogue.
What word could it be, of which I was only a syllable?
Who speaks the word?
To whom is it spoken?
—Octavio Paz
The Blue Bouquet, excerpt
Eliot Weinberger version
.
Listen to the air. You can hear it, feel it, smell it, taste it.
Woniya wakan—the holy air—which renews all by its breath. Woniya, woniya wakan—spirit, life, breath, renewal—it means all that.
Woniya—we sit together, don’t touch, but something is there; we feel it between us, as a presence.
A good way to start thinking about nature, talk about it.
Rather talk to it, talk to the rivers, to the lakes, to the winds as to our relatives.
―John (Fire) Lame Deer
Lame Deer, Seeker of Visions
.
No comments:
Post a Comment