The lawn is overgrown
And there's nothing I can do about it
Because I can't afford a lawn mower right now,
Not even a $40 used lawn mower.
As at other times in my life,
I find myself waiting,
Wanting to do the socially acceptable thing
But unable to do so because of finances.
And so the grass and weeds grow up around me
With the flowers, flowers everywhere,
In and amongst the weeds,
A gift from one who years ago
Cared enough to plant them here.
And until last night, I fretted about it.
I concerned myself with neighbors
And chiggers and ticks
And dogs.
But last night, as the sun went down,
I thought I heard another voice say,
“Perhaps it's supposed to be this way for now.
Perhaps this is closer to reality.
And perhaps it might soothe your Indian soul to let it be,
And even to embrace it for a while.
After all, you are half-wild.
Only a part of you
Wants the white man's ways.
The rest, and perhaps the deeper part
Longs to let things fare according to their nature.”
I know that one day soon,
Probably not too far into the future,
I will be able to afford a lawn mower.
And I will mow the lawn
Or let somebody mow it for me.
But when I do, I wonder if it would be wisdom in me
To find another way to let things be,
To grow my hair metaphorically,
To wander through the woods,
And to be plain, and open, and wild, and free,
For despite my genealogy,
My soul is only half civilized
At least half of me stands naked before the sun
Loincloth hanging down from my hips,
My skin brown, my arrow raised,
At one with things as they are,
Not longing for anything
Except to live
And be.
