grandmother

by waaseyaa'sin Christine Sy

 

also, tonight, nokomis reminds me of shape-shifting. imagine a brand new pair of mucklucks made out of brain-tanned hide or bandolier bag made with velvet. imagine shining beads orchestrated into anishinaabe meaning made by her. she, tonight, a beading needle. long, thin, bendy.

a tool for tattooing sacred into our bodies and being (in blue). or, drawing out grief, pain or little balls of coagulated messes. etching in,  siphoning out.

a long thin, curvy knife. perfect for filleting ogaa or shagan. any giigoonh really.

or, awl. for making a basket or preparing sheets of wiigwaas to be sewn together to make protection, a cover, walls, round; a soft, shaped home.

or, the bone for making an awl.

the way nokomis holds the earth shine tonight, too, on her darker side. reminds me that while she glows, she is not all light. and still, she is worthy of respect and honour. still, she is worthy of poetic pining.