Prayer smoke ascended into the grey sky. He hadn’t expected the rain and it was difficult to keep the fire. Yet his plan worked of bundling dried leaves and twigs in plastic before he left.
As the sun set, the rain fell harder then suddenly stopped. Night songs began, including tree frogs and an owl. Was it worth it to come out here?
He had no choice really but to reinvent himself. So many fragmented pieces. He gathered up what he could and sought the wilderness.
Was it wrong to not care about his culture? Breaking off a piece of dried spinach, he realized it probably was. He refused to stand in line anymore though, walking into the abyss.
It was the dawn that brought deliverance. He peeled back his wet sleeping bag like layers of skin, knowing he would have a different name today.
The sun would bring a new life…..and the healing would begin.
As he stood on top of the mountain.
Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed
Note: This is about a First Nations man seeking a vision as part of his culture, and seeking healing for himself.