Cree Naming Poem
Heavy with Lead
language personified—fluid in meaning.We believed her senses reverberatedand flowers bloomed with each symbol discovered.
We were afraid that judgment would reign from her fingertips.
We watched her form sounds—pesky phonetics—on the parchment of time,while dream worlds danced lightly on her tongue,heavy with her lead.
She listened heartily to the elder’s stories,shapeshifting oral whimsy into her own space;I remember she called them entertaining little daffodils.
Later, her words became raindrops,pools collecting in the palms of her hands.
She washed her eyes with themand saw the world unfold,as only she could.
~Julie Larson