Stumbling Warrior
I am a stumbling warrior:
I rush outside
Seeking the fullness of the Moon.
I do not want to miss
the Asking Time.
I crash into the vacuum cleaner;
Stub my toe in the dark
Throw on the light
Spill my water
Drench my sage and tobacco
Wet my feather.
Coyote is close at hand.
Trickster that he is,
makes me laugh
Before I can let out
a curse of anger.
“Got me!” I toss
at Invisible Coyote.
Finally, out the back door
I crash into Spider’s web
wed to the clematis vine
and the screen door.
Oh! I am shocked
at my carelessness.
But Spider is patient.
She will weave again.
I sullenly move into
the clearing by the pear tree.
I stoop to light my sage;
All is ready now.
The white light eye of the Moon
winks at me.
I raise myself
in a precision movement
that makes a thunking
connection between
the loaded pear branch above me
and my head.
The Moon laughs
Coyote howls.
The struggling embers in the sage bowl
fizzle and die.
My tobacco pouch, holding
Sacred offering
is damp from spilt water.
What shall I ask for?
Grandmother Moon,
Help my wobbly warrior legs
move with grace.
And Grandmother Moon,
Maybe I need to adjust my boundaries.