This Spring

When fragrant mud seeps through half frozen crusts of the

Eagle Nesting Moon

You hear her awakening yawn as she stretches

Out to the sunbeams of

This Summer

Dressed from toe to head in delicate streams of rain showers,

Rainbows and dew dusted pollens of evergreens

Now wreathed in the Moon of Big Leaves

She turns, as sunset glints of white in her hair,

Her voice strong like rumbling thunder

She spreads forth the abundance of harvest and lies down

To embrace

This Autumn

Murmuring deep sighs, rolling, caressing, entwined

Licking moisture found in faint winded streaks of traveling clouds

She is the Moon of Back to Back Connecting Winds

Hear her collect the ices of

This Winter

Quietly, very still she whorls frosts across the frozen tracks, sprinkles

Shimmers of wisdom into depths of snow

You see her on that very fine early morning, as the Sun touches the finest layer

Of a Crusted Snow Moon-

Frost spun into threads of icicles

Holding webs of frozen dreams

To be awakened

This Spring                                                                   

 

— Sunny Dooley

 

 

 

Sunny Dooley of the Salt Water People and By the Water’s Edge People lives in the Checkerboard Region of Eastern Navajo in Chi Chil Tah (Where the Oaks Grow), N.M. She is a traditional Diné storyteller and poet.  

 

 

 

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