Hopi-Tewa Poems

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Old One

At dawn he makes his way down            Mesa cliffs At dusk he makes his way up Morning comes, he makes way to his destination Only a dot-speck we see of him            as he labors his fields We children frolic along Mesa tops Evening comes, he makes his way up top Loloma he sings Qua-Qua he sings As he shares his fruits of the day with us children

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Faces

Above I stand on Mesa tops Across I see faces of cliffs Each cliff has a song In the Plaza the Kachina            line in line They each take their turn            at song Loloma they sing Qua-Qua they sing It is good to be alive

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Above

I dream I flew across the Hopi skies Soared through the rainbow clouds Turned, tucked and tumbled            and fell in your hands Smelled the dew and brush below From the Mesa top I lower my gaze            walk into the womb of mother Calm and warm as its spirits            carried my weight around There's streams, traces of banks            that run through the ancient paths Falling to my knees, deeply I drink            'til the sparkle hurts my eyes Laying on my back and staring at the sky            the stars know my name Lomahongva they say and sing My eyes close and drift slowly away The breeze blows in another day

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