Sea Smoke on Gichigami

Little Spirit Moon, Great Spirit Moon,

Bear Moon, and Snow Crust Moon

the four moons of winter

Sunrise

these coldest mornings of gelid moons

searing the horizon, slicing dawn from night

red-orange light captured on facets of ice crystals

that spin and glitter in the air, falling

to the caul of translucent marble

that covers Gichigami.

Beneath that frozen vastness

the lake world stirs with the earth

light diffused to the palest of golds

rouses spirits curled in sleep

on the valleyed lake floor; awake

they push with scaled claws and rise

these coldest mornings of gelid moons

their breath a song to the world above the ice

delicate inhalations

from the sliver of space between ice and lake

expel to white steam, sea smoke a silver mist

rising in vapor columns over the surface of the lake.

On the shore an old man lifts a hand

to the morning; the wind lifts tobacco from his palm,

scattering the offering in four directions

watching the song

gray white silver

drifting rolling across ice.

The song begins with spring

and the Creator who made the earth

streams rivers lakes oceans

grass plants flowers trees

the medicines the seasons

birds animals insects

and finally the first man,

born to the granddaughter of the moon.

Shimmering cold in summers of the past

the lake carried them weightless buoyant floating

sun glinting on wet scales and claws

on the shore they rested

against gabbrous rock heated by the sun,

this before rancor reached the world

before the Great Flood and finally redemption

and the retreat to the underwater,

the cold darkness of the valley a grace of sorts.

Since then, in early autumn

when skies reflect gentian waters of the lake

spirits rise with the tide, lured

by the colors of the hillside

water-blurred red orange yellow leaves

against the black of rocky cliffs

yet obliquely they gaze, cautiously

remembering the spirit who dazzled by the brilliance

drifted lost toward an inlet

where a young woman rowing alone

in a green-painted wooden boat

recoiled, her hair whitening.

Late-autumn ice forms and breaks

heavy on the surface of the lake

slowing the movements of the spirits

whose scales and claws

gray and dull starving for the sun

reach above Gichigami to grasp the wind

and on the shore waves collide

with rocks, trees

and fragilities built by man.

In winter, cold subdues the water surface;

nights, white ice reflects the winter moons

Little Spirit Moon, Great Spirit Moon,

Bear Moon, Snow Crust Moon

in their slow sail through the sky.

Sunrise sears the horizon,

slicing dawn from night

red-orange light captured on facets of ice crystals

that spin and glitter in the air, falling

to the caul of translucent marble ice

that covers Gichigami

descending to the valleyed lake floor,

rousing the spirits curled in sleep;

awakened they push with scaled claws

ascending toward the sun

these coldest mornings of gelid moons.

As one, then another, and others emerge

steam rises, fog glitters in the light

their breath a silver song

to the world above the ice.