The Seeker

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.

The Survivors V – We Belong

A fishing line, complete with hook and bobber flew into the air, landing finally into the water with a plop. Then Grey threw his into the air, with his good arm but his line didn’t go nearly as far. He was still nursing wounds from being attacked by wolves.

They had followed the creek which flowed into the river. The river water always seeming to hold a deeper yet softer song.

“I can’t believe you thought of fishing poles and a tackle box! Is there anything you don’t have stored in the lodge?” Grey was a lot freer with conversing ever since their talk yesterday about sex. Brie explained, “It all came from my Grandfather’s place….wait….I got another one!” she started reeling it in like a pro.

That made 3 for her, to his 1. All of them trout. After she dehooked the fish and dropped it in their bucket, Grey asked, “Do we really have 2 years’ worth of food stored?” Brie nodded, “Almost, thanks again to my Grandfather. His cabin is about 20 miles north of here….in bear country.” “I got one!” It was Grey’s turn now.

After they had enough fish, they sat and talked for a while. Baby Bluejay was awake but still quiet, tucked in her harness. When Grey asked about her tribe, Brie hesitated and looked sad. “There aren’t any tribes….not anymore.” He hadn’t thought of that.

“There’s something much more important than our bloodlines though”, Brie said with a serious look. “I’m a Lodge Maker. I learned it from the Mandan. And you? When were you going to tell me, you were a Bow Maker?”

To be honest, he had forgotten to tell her, but how did she know? Brie continued, “Do you realize how important all this is? We are starting over you and I, and we belong here! A Lodge Maker and a Bow Maker brought together, that’s not just a coincidence.”

Grey was thoughtful and nodded silently. He sighed and when he breathed out he added, “We have to get rid of the guns anyway…. they’re not safe around the children….”

Brie just looked at him…. with a sly smile.

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Thank you so much for reading!

The Survivors II – Bluejay

From the Apocalyptic Journal – 83 years from now

Wolves howling in the middle of the night could be heard through the thick walls of earth, wood and more earth. The smell of lavender smoke permeated the air of the lodge now, attempting to overtake the odors of blood and sweat. He never knew a woman could sweat like that.

It had been a horrible night of pain, and yet baby Jay was here now, Bluejay was her full name. “That’s beautiful…” he whispered, when Brie had told him. He had never seen Brie with a more contented, peaceful look on her face holding her daughter, wrapped up and warm. Brie was a tough woman, but he liked this softer side of her.

He had been right there through it all, and was beginning to clean up. She protested, “I’m so sorry….I’m too weak to…. He told her to rest. “I got this.” And he meant it. She took hold of his arm saying, “You did good tonight, thank you….” He simply nodded.

In the morning he went out to dedicate the afterbirth as instructed. It was Brie’s tradition, a tradition of her people, to thank the earth. He walked outside noticing the dew in the air. Picking a strong looking aspen tree, he mumbled what he thought may have been a prayer he heard once, a long time ago.

He stopped. What was a prayer anyway? Something was in his heart, so he just poured that out instead, silently. At the end he crossed himself, it was all he knew really.

The wind took hold of his hair, and a sense of peace enveloped him. He thought the hills seemed more alive today. Did he dare allow himself to feel joy? He took a deep breath and let go. Brie was right…..everything would be healed eventually, and the animals would return.

Suddenly, a smile of conformation began to spread over his face, when he saw a herd of elk not far away….

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Note: This is a special Thursday post due to your requests! So cool.

The Survivors

From the Apocalyptic Journal – 83 Years from Now

He smelled wood burning but it was the tug on his chest that woke him up. Someone or something was pulling on his left bicep. And for some reason he couldn’t open his eyes.

“Hold still!” A woman’s voice pushed him back down again when he tried to sit up. He forced one eye partially open, “Stitches?” he asked. She must have pulled him away from the wolves, and she was stitching him up. He passed out again from the pain.

When he awoke, he was inside the earth……wait no……he was in an earthen lodge. The wind outside told him they were in the middle of a tenacious storm. She offered him a bowl of something warm. All she said was, “Drink.” He did, and it was smooth warmth going down. He tasted honey, ginger and lemon. Lemon? Where did she find a lemon?

She looked at him with a knife in her hands. waving it at him “I know you’re immune from the last disease, otherwise you wouldn’t be here….my name is Brie, and I think we should help each other…..but if you ever hurt me……you will be a dead man.” She meant it and he knew it. He tried to say he would never do such a thing…but he couldn’t speak it.

Her face was beautiful and round, but she had one scar on her right cheek. A knife fight? She had long black hair, and he realized she was from one of the tribes. She had the smell of buckskin and lavender.

“The drink will help you sleep……I’ll need your help in a few days, delivering.” It was only then he noticed she was very pregnant. He fell into a deep sleep……thinking that she was attractive, but he was worried about the knife……. at least he did know how a child is born……

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed