First Nations Art
With pencil white on sheets of black,
Mandela circle faint on that –
She had us trace our hands on each,
So all appeared splayed on each piece.Then we reflected on design;
Felt energy that came to mind;
Then brought that out strokes dark and light;
Expressing selves – both strength and fright.Three times it's been – last week now this
I've seen First Nations – could not miss:
A teary princess, ’nuit child,
And now this wispy smoke in wild.The fox and loon with fish did make
The space twixt fingers, thus create
Ethereal figures in the ground
Of hands from group so spread around.“Goes in and out, my eyes it seems –
First hands, then figures through them gleams”
For me it's comfort that I sense
With native art these three times, hence –I spoke about my Creenglish strife
And stress it caused throughout my life
I saw it as a bursting forth
Through cancer’s weakest link, of course –So, for me, how this comfort now
Reflects in native side somehow;
So that in art both sides emerge –
No more one half of self submerged.navigation