Sole Stories (WC)

 [Will be inserting photo of Joseph's moccasins?]

Sole Stories

(of my Joseph)

the Lord directs our steps, 

so why try to understand 

everything along the way?”

—Proverbs 20:24 NLT

These baby moccasins, given by a 

Celilo Native elder—arrows in opposite directions:

“One foot will take you towards your people,

One foot will take you away.” 

Away in Coast Guard taps and logger’s corks.

In farmer’s spats and seaman’s flats. Ever

looking to moments of sole simply on the

earth, no barrier at all. Knowing grit and

moss and waters' rush. 

Knowing still…

Life, aka Pilgrimage (WC)

 

Life, aka Pilgrimage

(feast day of the Dormition, 2019)

1. She says (a map):

On pilgrimage

travel light,

bring journal.

2. While he says (some provisions):

On pilgrimage

smell flowers,

eat honey.

3. Till they say (a compass):

On pilgrimage

hold hands,

pray always. 

*a meditation on 1 Thessalonians 5: 1618, using “six word memoirs” for Joseph and I

 

To Ride the Falling Star (JM)

 (Joseph MacRae, 1990's)

To Ride the Falling Star

In the still of the night

shadows come to light.

The cool damp fog a blanket 

upon the sleeping Mother.

It comes creeping,

this wind that blows at night.

Now soundless, this starless sight.

The spirits speak in silence,

touched only by dreams.

And earth awakens 

                         to starbright.

Moon casts her crimson glow.

It is time, my child,

To ride the falling star. 

Forest Songs (JM)

 (Joseph MacRae, various dates)

Forest Songs

(a six part series)

The Pond

Real town, in real wilderness. Rare these days,

but it was home to me. 1940’s and 50’s. 

I was “Doc’s kid” then (“Come on in dear,

have some hot chocolate”). We hunted,

tanned furs. Long forest walks, 

sun on the beach. And in the winter,

the pond.

It didn’t freeze long. Had to catch the magic

right away. Big bonfire in the center,

ice-lights dazzling neath the moon.

Everyone came. Everyone smiled. 

Your worst enemy that night your pal. 

Kids, adults, everyone. Some skated.

Some chatted. As the trees gently watched,

their silence holding the laughter. 

Till we ambled home to hot cider and bed,

dreams of a pond catching starlight.

Till sunbeams peep in, waken 

to another day. 

That Day Surrounded

A young Coastie fresh out of high school,

sure could relate to the bears. And

happily I was stationed some on Kodiak Island.

Beloved to the Orthodox, beloved to the wild ones. 

But boy, my Angel he must’ve been saying his prayers,

that day surrounded by Kodiak bears. 

Started out normally enough. A day off, long hike. 

But my rifle dropped, plugged, couldn’t shoot.

Aidios to any critter protection. Could’ve turned back.

But didn’t. Walking along the river’s when it happened–-

Fresh bear tracks everywhere! Droppings still warm.

Bears right there, hidden. Letting me pass unharmed.

It’s the oddest feeling, watched like that, 

surrounded by the bear people. 

Guess that’s when I knew

they were my people too. But still,

My Angel he must’ve been saying his prayers,

that day surrounded by Kodiak bears.

Right there on that island (now I’m Orthodox too.)

These words--my try, to thank him.

INSERT Saga of the Sawmill (see here)

Speaking Silence

I don’t know when it happened. Well, it 

had before sometimes. Those quick

Signs of the Cross and Hail Marys at work 

to ward off danger. Between all the buzzing,

and the crashing–-glimpses. But now, 

it wouldn’t let go. And found myself 

working more and more for the other side.

Oh yes, forestry, wildlife management and all. 

Inching closer and closer to that song of silence. 

The animals, they knew it. Spoke it. Bears,

red tail hawks, wolves, even salmon. 

And the trees, it was the old ones. 

Spirit trees, they call them.

Why couldn’t I stop looking?

And listening…

INSERT Mountaineer Tree (see here)

INSERT Peace Tree, Peace Arch (see here)

Still Sung

There’s room for both, you know.

Let in, let go. Breathe in, breathe out. 

Life, death, renewal. Learned it 

from the red tail hawk. Up there,

circling, watching, hearing the cries.

And the forest does cry. 

Sometimes for nurture. 

Sometimes to prune. 

That is, if you listen.

So red tail hawk, he doesn’t squawk 

empty words. He circles. Keen eye below, 

ancient healing in tow, swoops down. 

Ancient eyes to look upon the now. 

And to listen–-forest songs

still sung.

Peace Tree, Peace Arch (JM)

 

(Joseph MacRae, 1992)

Peace Tree, Peace Arch

(remembering Peace Tree Cascadia, Tacoma, Washington, 1992)

What does it take to grow a Peace Tree?

First, like an idea, a seed is planted in the earth.

Its roots are small at first, 

but as they grow, they will spread.

Spreading toward the four corners of the earth,

north, south, east and west.

As it grows to a sapling, it begins

to change the earth’s landscape.

As it grows to a mature tree

the Peace Tree serves many purposes.

Its roots help to hold the soil from 

eroding away. 

It will give shade and beauty to a 

barren spot on Mother’s Earth. 

Its trunk gives strength.

Strength and support, to its branches

Branches which provide home and habitat 

for many of earth’s creatures. 

For birds to nest, and spiders to spin webs,

for insects and other creatures to make up

the earth’s family.

Who can plant a Peace Tree?

Anyone may plant a Peace Tree.

A Peace Tree knows no boundary,

no fear, no hate, no prejudice.

Its planters are united as one, 

learning not how different we are,

but how alike we are,

all working for one goal…

                           –Peace–

Red Tail Hawk Speaks (JM)

 (Joseph MacRae, from various dates)

Red Tail Hawk Speaks

(a three part series)

In the Beginning

In the beginning Great Spirit created all things with here in the balance. It was all good. The Stone people, the Standing people, the Finned, the Feathered, the Creeping Crawling and Plant people. Each was given a purpose with here in the Circle of Life Death and Renewal.

The Red Tail Hawk is a keeper of this balance. To this day Red tail Hawk continues to hunt in the tradition of the Ancestors. Circling high above the Earth, preying on the Rodent and the Creeping and Crawling people, which in return is keeping the balance of natural things, the circle of Life, Death and renewal…

Circle of The Forest

Red Way (one way of the ancient Native Americans) teaches us that everything that is or happens has a place, a reason for being, and a purpose. Red Way also teaches that everything is a sacred part of a Great Mystery and answers to Great Spirit.

Red Tail Hawk has answered the call from the Red Way by sharing all that he sees as he circles above Earth Mother. He teaches us how to live in harmony with all else while fulfilling our purpose. Red Way teaches us that death is change, the bearer of new life where the end becomes a new beginning.

Red Tail Hawk will now tell his story of the Circle of Life in the Forest:

I see that it is a good day to die and a good day to live. The smoke is fading away over the grey wasteland of ash and debris. The black stumps like footprints are left to remind us of the once proud Standing People, remembering...

The Old Forest's floor had become covered with dead and dying debris. Too many of the Old Ones had dead or dying tops, their hearts slowly rotting away. Many had died still standing as spirits of the past. The creeping, crawling four legged and feathered people were many--many more than Earth Mother could nurture. The Old Ones were falling prey to disease. The Lesser Standing People were being stripped of their leaves and bark by hungry browsing four legs. Life was becoming a struggle, the Forest cried out for help!

Earth Mother heard the cry. Earth Mother and Sky Father in the counsel of Great Spirit began to speak. They spoke to Grandmother Moon and Grandfather Sun, the Thunder Beings and Cloud People. All heard the cry. Sky Father cast his blanket across the Earth, the Sky turned black. The Winds danced with fury, the Cloud People hurled rain upon the land, the Thunder People shook the land as the Fire Beings hurled their spears of fire. The Standing People reached out to the Powers and in a blinding flash, they united. Old Forest had begun its Dance of Death.

Fire began to rage as it rode the wind across the land, for many days and many nights it raged wild and free until Earth Mother cried out: "Enough! The Earth has now been cleansed by Fire. It is now a day for renewal."

Not all of the Old Ones died. A few of the Old Wolf Trees were chosen to stay behind, their seeds soon to be cast across the land and a new forest will begin. But first the land must go through another change. The Green People must return and prepare the soil. For a few seasons together with the Lesser Standing People will also provide browsing for the Four Legs as they return to the Land. This is also a time when Red Tail Hawk will return to hunt the Lesser Four Legs, and Creeping and Crawling People to keep their numbers in the balance. In a few seasons the Lesser Standing People will give way to the Giants of the Forest who will rule until it is time for another change.

So the wise Red Tail Hawk has spoken...

Legend of the Red Tail Hawk

Many winters ago, long before anyone can remember, before the change…It is then that all people spoke the same language. They shared more than their words. Since the finned, the feathered and the four legged peoples had been here since antiquity they already knew what was edible and what was poisonous, and what herbs were good for healing. So they shared with the two legged people.

At first, there were few of the two legs. But as seasons passed they began to multiply. The different tribes would trade. The hunters and gatherers would trade skins, dried meat and fish for dried corn, flour and beans, and dried seeds in myriad colors. But as time went on, some were not content with-here-in this balance. They began to war against their peaceful farmer neighbors. Soon it seemed there was no peace or safety in the land. 

One day as the Brown Hawk circled high above the land, as he hunted looking down upon the Earth, he saw a war party moving toward the west. He knew the difference between a hunting party and a war party. He also knew the peaceful farmers lived to the west. So Brown Hawk flew to the people to warn them of the danger. Their Chief only laughed at him. Saying “Ah, they are our brothers, they are coming to trade.” “No, No!! They carry no goods for trade, they do not bring their families. They are coming with weapons of war,” said Brown Hawk. But no one listened.

So Brown Hawk flew back to the War Chief to try and persuade him to stop. Brown Hawk said to him, “You must not attack the peaceful people. They want to trade with you. Great Spirit will be angry with you for this.” The War Chief paid no attention to him. So Brown Tail Hawk flew back to warn the people again. 

By now, it was too late. The sound of thunder could be heard. The war party was upon the village and killing the people. Brown Hawk circled about trying to stop the killing. No one listened. Arrows were flying. 

Suddenly, an arrow struck Brown Hawk in the lower back. As he continued to circle above, blood from the wound on his tail fell like rain upon the warriors. The War Chief’s head shot up to see Brown Hawk circling above. He remembered Brown Hawk’s words, “Great Spirit will be angry.” Then the War Chief held up his hand to halt. He motioned for his men to leave the village and return to their own land to the east. 

By now, Brown Hawk was feeling weak and in pain from loss of blood. Circling, he could see beyond the mountains to the third mountain, the Great Mountain in the west–the place we all long reach at the end of our life. He became weaker and weaker. Looking down, Brown Hawk spotted a large rock. He glided down and lit upon it to rest. Looking to the Heavens, he breathed “Great Spirit, grant me the strength to reach the last mountain.”  

The Brown Hawk heard the voice of Great Spirit. “Brown Hawk, today you were very brave, willing to give your life to save others. So from this day on, all of your descendents’ tail feathers will be red in remembrance of this day. Your descendents will be known as the red tail hawk, or the blood tail hawk. And all who witnessed this day will teach their own descendents to watch for the red tail hawk. To listen to him when he speaks to you. And to ask for his guidance, for he sees from far above. He sees what is needed for the balance. He can lead one back to the Way of Heaven. Now go, finish your journey. Long ago you reached the first mountain, then the second. The third mountain now awaits you, my brave one.”

So Red Tail Hawk again took flight. As he flew his strength returned. The pain, it was gone. But as he continued to fly, blood poured from his tail, making a long , straight red path toward the third mountain. Great Spirit again spoke to him. “Red Tail Hawk! Behind you as you flew you marked a straight red path to follow. It is to be known as the Red Road, the path of the good heart that the two legs must follow to reach the Great Mountain. Your clan will be those who follow this road in the old way, not losing the ancient customs. This they will learn from your descendents, who will refuse to become urbanized in their spirit. Who will continue to watch and learn from the great heights , and to hunt as their ancestors; even when other feathered peoples decline these skills and instead eat what the two legs provide. No, holding to the old ways, such will be your clan. Yet your guidance, your Good Red Road, is open to all of good heart. For all are my children, and I wish for all to come to Me.”

“Now,” continued Great Spirit, “now it is time for you to do your circle, to dance your dance.” So Red Tail Hawk flew high above the mountains. His circles they grew larger and larger. So large, so high, they could no longer even be seen. Red Tail Hawk had reached the Heart of Heaven. The Great Sky Lodge of Great Spirit, its door opened. Finally, Red Tail Hawk was home, upon the Great Mountain. 

Yet still, he sings to us:

Remember, O children,

Great Spirit in Heaven!

The path to His Lodge

is the Good Red Road.

                             THE END

Tribute to a Feathered Warrior (JM)

 (Joseph MacRae, from 1992)

Tribute to a Feathered Warrior

(from the journal, 1992, upon moving from

South Carolina to Tacoma, Washington)

Barely back, miss the South already. Well,

at least a good movie’s on. It’s General Patten,

he had his crossroads too. Halted his jeep, 

his men midmarch, there where Caesar had. 

It’s true. And he told them. How great Caesar

halted right in the middle of the road, so they 

could watch a bird. Two game roosters to be exact,

fighting like the dickens. And my spirit it flew back

to South Carolina. Cock fighting, it’s vicious. But 

it’s a royal sport. And so even the great Caesar 

bowed his head in the end. “That.” he told his men,

“is how I want you to fight!” Kind of reminds me of 

the Old Testament sacrifices, one bird offered so 

another can fly free. And it begs for a poem…

Long ago in ancient Rome, so I am told,

two great armies marched to war. 

One from the West and one from the East. 

As yet, neither had seen defeat.

Suddenly, the Roman General

gave his command for all the troops to halt. 

He turned to his army and said with a grin,

“The battle is about to begin!”

The two little warriors, facing each other proud. 

They wore no suit of armor, nor rode upon steed.

THei weapons were their beaks, wings and feet.

Their spurs as sharp as swords.

They crowed their challenge loudly,

and showed their colors proudly.

One small cock of grey, the other feathered red.

Their hackle feathers shining,

tail feathers streaming, 

They lowered their heads,

the charge began.

With the fury of a tempest wind,

wings beating the air,

beaks pecking,

Feet shuffling,

As spurs pierced each other’s flesh.

As the battle comes to an end and

the dust begins to settle,

feathers lay all around. 

One brave feathered warrior lay dead upon the ground. 

The victor, with barely strength to raise his head,

his feathers once shining, now bloody and dull,

eyes in a daze.

With all his might, he rolls back his head,

bows out his chest, and 

Gives his “Victory Crow!”

“Let all the word know, the General spoke, 

“take heed this day, as history unfolds. 

Remember men how proudly one cock fought, 

and how bravely one cock died!”

Upon the Earth (JM)

Upon the Earth

(a morning blessing, inspired by a 2019 dream,

Central Oregon Coast)

From dream awakening—a Pilgrim couple stands in

the early dawn, seaside field. A boat floats nearby,

just disembarked. And real life intertwines…

waking to the flowers

the pouring forth of their fragrance

makes beauty shine

upon the earth. 

 

From the Flowers (JM)

 

From the Flowers

(a bedtime blessing, inspired by a 2019 dream,

Central Oregon Coast)

Slumber awaits, Holy Angels surround the

bunnies in the meadow

bears in the stream,

the fragrance pours

forth from the flowers,

in this, our field

of dreams…

From Mama (Trudy)'s Memoirs (GC)

 (Joseph's Mama Gertrude Camp, from her memoirs entitled Ramblings, 1990's)

Uncle Harold's Poetry (HS)

  

(Joseph's uncle Harold Stidham, turn of the century; note that pg 21 from original manuscript has been misplaced, so is replaced here by its same content from another manuscript)