Grandmother

Out of her brown body she pushed

silver thread, light, air

and carried it carefully on the dark, flying

where nothing moved.

Out of her body she extruded

shining wire, life, and wove the light

on the void

From beyond time,

beyond oak trees and bright clear water flow

she was given the work of weaving the strands

into creation, the gift of having created,

to disappear.

After her,

the women and the men weave blankets into trees of life,

memories of light and ladders,

infinity-eyes, and rain.

After her I sit, on my laddered, rain bearing rug

and mend the tear with string.

To Honor and Remember A Wise Woman...

~Paula Gunn Allen~

Laguna/Sioux/Lebanese