Joy Harjo - 1951-
Remember the sky that you were born under, know each of the star's stories. Remember the moon, know who she is. Remember the sun's birth at dawn, that is the strongest point of time. Remember sundown and the giving away to night. Remember your birth, how your mother struggled to give you form and breath. You are evidence of her life, and her mother's, and hers. Remember your father. He is your life, also. Remember the earth whose skin you are: red earth, black earth, yellow earth, white earth brown earth, we are earth. Remember the plants, trees, animal life who all have their tribes, their families, their histories, too. Talk to them, listen to them. They are alive poems. Remember the wind. Remember her voice. She knows the origin of this universe. Remember you are all people and all people are you. Remember you are this universe and this universe is you. Remember all is in motion, is growing, is you. Remember language comes from this. Remember the dance language is, that life is. Remember.
I like this poem a lot. I have been thinking about the universe and how we are all a product of the Big Bang (big expansion). And that the universe continues to expand, which means we do too.
The universe is estimated to be 10-13 billion years old, the earth 4.5 billion years, first life 3.7 billion years old, humans 1.3-1.8 million, Homo sapiens developed language 50,000 years, and the industrial revolution about 250 years. That the life that we all know and depend on, is just a small part of history. That it continues to evolve and we cling too much to our view of what it is.
Sometimes the bigness of the universe makes me freeze and feel insignificant, but it somehow also gives me peace with impermanence. That our time here is a itty blip but yet we are part of this universe, and somehow our existence and emerging consciousness matters. It is the holding of the paradox of being so small yet significant. How can I care if we are so fleeting?
Also- the last few lines on language! Ahh! It's too much!
Remember that language comes from this.
Remember the dance that language is, that life is
How much language shapes our consciousness and experience.
Language itself is in evolution.
OK, I better stop before you all wonder about me!
Happy sleeping,
Dana