Landet ett annat men himlen den samma. Nu blir det poesi istället för geografi, skriver av två sidor av Joy Harjio från boken The Pueblo Imagination. Tycker att hennes budskap hör hemma i en blogg om varför bege sig på äventyr till landet bortom hemma.
Dikterna förmedlar en känsla som jag kan känna igen inte bara från barndomen och livet på landet utan även t ex från Tanzania.
Mötet med djuren, naturen och en helt annan kultur, en rytm som berör och påverkar mig.
Jag skriver av Joy Harjo och hennes ¨The girls at the clothesline¨.
It´s the small things that make up the immense world. Everything matters for instance the girls hanging laundry at the Pueblo on a particular spring day nearby. Old Man Jeff leans into his conversation with the sun. The sun infuses the world with energy, gives impetus to matter. This world doens´t begin and end with our human dramas, though our thoughts, emotions, desires, and actions translate to the destiny of this relatively small planet.
The world turns on a small, seemingly insignificant acts.
On the thougths of children hanging out laundry on a windy spring day, for instance. They in turn are influenced and fed by the dapple of clouds in the blue above them. Breaths of spirits of thoughts.
By the earth holding everything up, giving birth to plants, trees, rivers. Is mingled with their breathing, and the breathing of warm, wet clothes, water mingling with cooler air.
It is all rhythm:
rhytm of the movement of handling over and hanging of the wet laundry
heating of the water over a wood fire, the boiling, the steaming
pounding and cleaning of the clothes
and all the dreaming, the talking, the singing in the work of their mothers, aunts, sisters and grandmothers from this place forwards and backwards, makes a people, makes a history, makes a future, makes a past.
And these girls hang out the freshley washed clothes and awakening is occuring beneath the earth. The fields are being readied for planting.
It is all rhythm:
rhytm of the planting sticks
singing of songs for planting beneath the blue sky of exact memory
rhytms of stopping and going
cupping the seed, sowing the seeds
and all the dreaming, the talking, the singing in the workh of their
Fathers, uncles, brothers and grandfathers from this place forwards and backwards, makes a people, makes a history, makes a future, makes a past.
It´s all rhythm:
This coming together of earth and sky:
over the houses and the fields
over the tortillas, corn , chili and meat
over the railroad tracks and trains
over the interstate and commerce and trade.
We are all bound by this
Joy Harjo och hennes ¨The girls at the clothesline ur boken¨ The Pueblo Imagination.
