My ride showed up. Celebrate love, celebrate life.

John Trudell (Santee Dakota) walked on in December, 2015. His last words: My ride showed up. Celebrate love, celebrate life. I still haven’t come to terms with this entirely. John Trudell touched so many lives, he was the voice for so many people, a lot of them voiceless. He was a part of my life from childhood and the occupation of Alcatraz. I’ve listened to him throughout my life, heard his words, sang his words, read his words, his words have inhabited my heart. So, what to share? Once again, I’ve been listening to the words that have been part of my skin for many decades, how can I decide? Maybe you’ll go look for yourself, find those words that speak to you, that find their way to your heart. For me, I guess it will always come back to one of JT’s central messages, that human beings were losing their understanding of being human. So, Bone Days it is, specifically, Crazy Horse.

We Hear what you say
One Earth, one Mother
One does not sell the Earth
The people walk upon
We are the land
How do we sell our Mother ?
How do we sell the stars ?
How do we sell the air ?
Crazy Horse
We hear what you say

Too many people
Standing their ground
Standing the wrong ground
Predators face he possessed a race
Possession a war that doesn’t end
Children of God feed on children of Earth
Days people don’t care for people
These days are the hardest
Material fields, material harvest
decoration on chain that binds
Mirrors gold, the people lose their minds
Crazy Horse
We Hear what you say

One Earth, one Mother
One does not sell the Earth
The people walk upon
We are the land.

Today is now and then
Dream smokes touch the clouds
On a day when death didn’t die
Real world time tricks shadows lie
Red white perception deception
Predator tries civilising us
But the tribes will not go without return
Genetic light from the other side
A song from the heart our hearts to give
The wild days the glory days live

Crazy Horse
We Hear what you say
One Earth, one Mother
One does not sell the Earth
The people walk upon
We are the land
How do we sell our Mother
How do we sell the stars
How do we sell the air

Crazy Horse
We hear what you say
Crazy Horse
We hear what you say
We are the seventh generation
We are the seventh generation

John Trudell, Bone Days.

Earth Day

Makȟá. Earth. Makočé. Land. Kinship. Family. The interdependence and connectedness of all things. That there was a need to name a day Earth Day makes me hauntingly sad. Every day, life goes on, and people walk over thicknesses of concrete, asphalt, spend days inside more concrete, lock themselves in steel when they are outside. It can be easy to forget how much you are a part of the earth. It can be easy to want more, always more. More to make your life easier, convenient, what you think is better. Poverty can grind people down so much they see nothing but blackness and pain. And in it all, we are both the driving force and blind eyes that allow those who are powerful to destroy the earth which gives us life. To destroy all life which is not that of humans, and if some humans get caught up in that destruction, so what? This is a day of terrible sadness, all the more so because it’s just one of “those days” to most people. It doesn’t mean anything, just as the earth doesn’t mean anything.

Duane Yazzie, photo by Robert Esposito.

Duane Yazzie, photo by Robert Esposito.

“The life of the earth is waning,” warns Duane Yazzie, president of the Shiprock Chapter of the Navajo Nation.

Yes, it is. One piece at a time.