Читать книгу The East Side of it All - Joseph Dandurand - Страница 11

If I were to stop at every sign I was given like the sound of an eagle or the silence and flight of a young hawk or growling of a sasquatch or the jumping fish before my net or the way the river flows and the sight of an old crane as she snaps and kills a fish with her razor-sharp beak.

If I could, I would turn this into good medicine for me and my family and we would be protected from all the hate and envy on this reservation but I can still hear the whispers from those who wait and wait and take and take and complain about those of us who’ve reset our lives in a completely different direction.

If we all touched the sky and asked the questions we all wanted answered I would surely ask what it is like on the other side and would it be like this life but much better and much simpler.

As we all await our final walk all we can do is listen and watch for the signs that will keep us grounded here and all I can do as the world spins around and around is watch for the signs that my life was always right and my children have been given enough teachings not to repeat what I’ve failed at and as the day begins, there are more signs: the call of the coyote, the shining star, all of this shown to me as if I knew what to do with it.