The Wigwam Subtitle Thoughts While In A Sauna Poem by Stephanie Eve Kane Arado

Grey dusk surrounds a half mud moon
Nestled among bare trees, brown leaves
Softly approach fire, ablaze
Smoke wafting up through ceiling circle
Center of the Wigwam

Hair falling softly held by a strip of buck skin
Red and blue play feathers stand up in back
Tilting black shallow bowl rolls of cedar tumble
Flames split, engulf turning the offering to cinders
Cedar smoke travels upward; rebirth in November

Faces in the dusk become clearer; all dressed in buck skin
Hair loose and falling around shoulders
Those who wear scarves and jackets on other days
Added their offerings to the fire already
Inhabit now the corners of the fire circle waiting

Breathing in the cedar the prayer/story rises
“Rejected by his countrymen, some believed
And he gave them the right to be God’s children.
Not by a human father. God was their father.”
Heads nod and faces glow across the fire circle.

“Traveling across the land with his companions
Healing, dispelling, teaching and staying with the outcasts
He said to them, “night is coming where no one can work.””
“Amen, ” say the faces on the other side of the fire
Glancing upward seeing light visible through mud/animal skins.

Smiling back at them, and turning round leaving them inside
The wigwam still surrounded by the scent of cedar
Padding softly away on the brown leaves, bare tree branches
My kid play feathers now a soft white grey
Lost by a seagull on the way south to warmer open ocean.