Indian Market, Santa Fe,
early morning rain, still
damp, all the tribes
gather, clouds gather,
light gathers, thunder gathers-
in the plaza CLAN-destine
plays Native rock and roll-
an eagle dancer spreads his
wings, wide open, eyes closed,
sweating in the noon sun, he swoops,
he staggers- the 2-year-old boy
dances with him, he SEES the eagle
dancing dancing dancing flying-
he reaches out to a young Indian
woman, she SEES the eagle dancer,
joins him, turning, twirling, holding
him up, the 2-year-old boy
dances at their feet, gazing up
at eagles, gathering clouds-
not once do his protective sisters,
mother, fear he'll be harmed, letting
him dance with eagle dancer, young
eagle woman (his daughter sister, lover,
mother) until the cops come to take
him away, drunken Indian, they
didn't SEE the sacred Eagle Dancer
flying through his clouds, Eagle Woman
at his side. That night the streets in
Santa Fe were raging
rivers, lightning piercing sky,
over and over, how he danced
us, the world, new.
August 21,2004, Santa Fe Plaza
Into the Mayan Sixth Sun/World, the Pueblo Fifth Sun/World.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem