Bearing Witness
Tune for a Monday Morning

The Coyote Clan

copyright by T. Windling

From An Unspoken Hunger by Terry Tempest Williams:

copyright by T. Windling

"Members of the Coyote Clan are not easily identified, but there are clues. You can see it in their eyes. They are joyful and they are fierce.  They can cry louder and laugh harder than anyone on the planet. And they have an enormous range.

"The Coyote Clan is a raucous bunch: they have drunk from desert potholes and belched forth toads. copyright by T. WindlingThey tell stories with such virtuosity that you'll swear you've been in the presence of preachers.

"The Coyote Clan is also serene. They can float on their backs down the length of any river or lose entire afternoons to the contemplation of stone.

"Members of the Clan court risk and will dance on slickrock as flash floods erode the ground beneath their feet. It doesn't matter. They understand the earth re-creates itself day after day."

Their range is wide indeed...all the way to the green hills of Devon, and far beyond. Here in the Mythic Arts field, I like to think there's a little coyote in us all.

copyright by Shreve StocktonPaintings above: "Coyote and the Dog Spirits," "The Coyote Clan," and  "Coyote Woman."  Photograph: "Howling Away at the Gray" by Shreve Stockton, from her wonderful Daily Coyote site. I also highly, highly recommend her book of the same title. More coyote reading: articles here and here; poetry here, here, and here.

Comments


Coyote Sister: A Prose Poem

Walking along with my students that summer of sun and rain,
I speak of the trickster, the guiser, the holy fool. I talk of Coyote.
I tell them that one can spy out Coyote for her shadow is not black.
It is the rainbow.In my hand is a red balloon, a gift of the day.
As I gesture with broad hand strokes, the shadow of the balloon
bumps along behind me. One student cries out, “Look!” And we look.
The shadow on the ground is red, is a sun that rises and falls.
Throw your colored shadow sisters. Bring wisdom and laughter
back to the world.

© 2012 Jane Yolen All rights reserved

and don't neglect the wolf
The Future Is An Animal
by Tina Chang

In every kind of dream I am a black wolf
careening through a web. I am the spider
who eats the wolf and inhabits the wolf's body.
In another dream I marry the wolf and then
am very lonely. I seek my name and they name me
Lucky Dragon. I would love to tell you that all
of this has a certain ending but the most frightening
stories are the ones with no ending at all.
The path goes on and on. The road keeps forking,
splitting like an endless atom, splitting
like a lip, and the globe is on fire. As many
times as the book is read, the pages continue
to grow, multiply. They said, In the beginning,
and that was the moral of the original and most
important story. The story of man. One story.
I laid my head down and my head was heavy.
Hair sprouted through the skin, hair black
and bending toward night grass. I was becoming
the wolf again, my own teeth breaking
into my mouth for the first time, a kind of beauty
to be swallowed in interior bite and fever.
My mind a miraculous ember until I am the beast.
I run from the story that is faster than me,
the words shatter and pant to outchase me.
The story catches my heels when I turn
to love its hungry face, when I am willing
to be eaten to understand my fate.

Ah Jane, the red shadow of your bumping balloon came with me into dreamland last night & I love your Coyote Woman Terri, the print sits right next to my left hand watching as I type.

How lucky I was when we moved to the farmhouse and forty acres outside of Bend, Oregon, and I was
ten and eleven and every night when I went to bed the coyotes sang me to sleep. It began with one
voice and then the others joined in harmony until it was swelling up into a hymn. I tried to stay awake
until it ended but fell into dreams, brought to me by the coyotes.

Paul Winter Consort, Wolf Eyes http://youtu.be/Q8H7G1G23Es

I also commented on unspoken hunger, but, mostly in ramblings about art desks, tea, and rabbits. sigh... Anyway, this was what made me stop. You have created in these, emotion, soothing, tumult, and softness all at once. It is so tender and real. I think it is a gift to know your presence in this Universe. Blessings, Amy Sperry Faldet

Coyote Clan! Yes! That's me too!

The comments to this entry are closed.