Written for the Silverton Poetry Festival's Verbal/Visual event in April of 2009. This was a project that pair artists and poets - this piece was inspired by a strong textually Southwestern mask created by a local Silverton resident.
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"…But still man must wait to enter.
This is Soyal, the Blue-masked catsina
With a fiery red antenna, it opens the way to greet all that grows.
Hopis do not forget the germination process"
From "Soyal", Robert Boissiere, author of Meditations With the Hopi
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the clay became my flesh
dried onto it
created layers the color of the
cooling earth, the Second Mesa that
Soyal walked.
the gritty soil we were borne to
left in our migrations and returned to -
it is the face of our Cachinas, our souls.
we accept them, claw footed and dancing;
smooth them into our masks.
my eyes will never close,
they are solid and open
at the Fourth Mesa
we know where we have been;
i know where we are going.
(2009)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem