insignificance

from remnants of the first earth by ray a. young bear

"in an earthly realm where the forces of nature are infinitely more powerful than human beings, personal and collective insignificance is a given. in our relatively compact tribal society, there was equal standing among everyone other than the chieftain hierarchy. in the ancien regime our people hunted, fished, gathered food, planted seeds, and harvested crops together, making everyone interdependent.

this philosophical stance of insignificance was reflected in the journals. preceding each passage my grandfathers wrote were such disclaimers: 'now, at this very moment, i will be forthright and say that i do not know much, that i am not exceedingly knowledgeable, but this is what i have been told: whatever you see, you will document that fact, for it will serve as a point from which present and future black eagle childs will have an unobstructed view of our life. this i have done in the same way my other grandfathers did. . . .'"

"it is true what leslie silko says: that if you know how to write, you inevitably deal with those who once lived -- by yourself.

a human presence is forever. even luciano's. even if he didn't quite die. whether in the act of storytelling or fond remembrances. the mere virtue of being alive, permeable and free, rang throughout the physical totality of the person who was luciano bearchild. he sought and was able to experience new ways to see things, to live them and not be complacent."

"listening to grandmother's pleas for william to awaken, i felt the welling of sadness within me. in a tribal society that was historically burdened with obstacles, suppression of emotion became an art form. to cry over the departed was to inflict misery upon their 'shadows.' in death there was a deep-rooted fear that personal grief could bridge the world of the real and the nonreal. whatever our affliction - physical pain, bereavement, sheer loneliness, or embarrassment - being ostentatious was not part of our demeanor."

"edgar bearchild used to preface and summarize stories by saying: 'ma ni tta-i ni-e na ska ki-a ji mo ni. in this direction does the story fall.' bearchild used this phrase to an obsessive degree for any information presented. in this direction being the disclaimer for words spoken in perhaps an unfavorable context, does the story fall being inevitability."

"keep this in mind: to have every facet of life work to one's advantage was seen not as the glorious result of unbounded determination but as the workings of evil. this was - and even today is - the tribal community's mind-set. illiteracy was shared. poverty was blood-ingrained, and like the harmony that held the clans together, having little was inherited. anything that tore through the delicate netting was regrettable, like suicidal indians or those who chose urban relocation, coming home for their own funerals. what a pity! was whispered through cupped hands to respectful, listening ears. a life misled was lamented over sweet rolls and coffee, but luciano's success with money and white women was deemed unnatural.

suffering and bad luck were shared. equally - like commodity surplus foods. luciano's fortune benefited his immediate family and himself. . . amazingly, after luciano's mysterious disappearance, many spoke of him in respectful terms. those who had been jealous enough to become enemies recanted statements he had been an extraterrestrial all along and took part in the search for him."

nineteen eighty three

by ray a. young bear from the invisible musician

1.

it is january--

and simply because

the rain failed to change

into snow

the quiet river

has risen to flood stage.

half-frozen rainwater

fills into a nearby pond

where once the sound

of frogs, crickets,

mosquitoes and birds

permeated the humid

summer night:

narcosis through

the sound of an open

window. tomorrow

young children will

pretend to skate

over the thick pond ice,

but each day their figures

will slowly descend

into the ground,

reminding us

of mythical rolling

heads playing hockey.

the rainwater will evaporate

and ice will succumb

to the daily game.

winter’s indecision

makes us feel safe.

an elder, however,

would say, “you’re

basically unprepared.”

no matter how balanced

one’s mentality,

one’s physicality.

2.

the gentle appearance

of the female death light

from wisconsin

takes place

in the center

of a soybean field.

two times, a slow fire.

inside the hollow wall

a mouse takes a chance

during our rumination

to weep like a human.

throughout the neighborhood

the four-legged sentinels,

especially the all-white ones,

signal each other of this

incongruity: a shadow

of an unknown tall being

stands in the flash

of lightning.

the reason why i am afraid even though i am a fisherman

by ray a. young bear from the invisible musician

who is there

to witness the ice

as it gradually forms itself

from the cold rock-hard banks

to the middle of the river?

is the wind chill a factor?

does the water at some point

negotiate and agree to stop

moving and become frozen?

when you do not know the answers

to these immediately you are afraid,

and to even think in this inquisitive

manner is contrary to the precept

that life is in everything.

me, i am not a man;

i respect the river

for not knowing its secret,

for answers have nothing

to do with cause and occurrence.

it doesn’t matter how early

i wake to see the sun shine

through the ice-fishing hole;

only the ice along

with my foolishness

decides when

to break.