About Love

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My attempt at painting Oniwak.

She told me,
“It’s like you know
That way land
Is absorbed by Skins
Seed swallowed
By soft earth
Nurtured by my hands
Blood so thick and heavy
It’s hardened bacon grease
Smeared on leftover frybread
Grandma eats
Without her teeth
Stones the size of dreams
Too big
For pockets or bellies
This real thing
To hold on to
Can’t barter
Or pawn
Won’t walk out the door
Nations gathering
Movements growing
Rising
Tiny drops in rivers
Becoming ripples
Waves in Oceans
The way a horse carries in itself
Four directions
And when we ride upon it
Everything is complete

© Melissa Fry Beasley 2012

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