Whenever I Wander the Northwood,
I Think of The People Who Lived Here;
They Revered Their Vast Forest Homeland,
And They Held All of Creation So Very Dear
“Have you heard the wolf cry to the blue corn moon?
Or asked the grinning bobcat why he grinned?
Can you sing with all the voices of the forest?
Can you paint with all the colors of the wind?”
Colors of the Wind,
From Disney’s Pocahontas
A little more than two hundred years ago
In a land of blue skies and even bluer waters
Lived an Ojibwe native girl named Meemee
She was Chief White Hawk’s only daughter
In the long, bitterly frigid winters of the vast northwood
Young Meemee would sit by the fire in her family’s wickiup
As her mother taught her how to weave thick, warm blankets
And how to prepare very nourishing meals for their evening sup
When fragrant green spring finally arrived in the great northwood
Young Meemee would work with the women in her small community
Helping them to gather wildflowers, picking succulent fresh blueberries
And collecting delicious sap from the forest’s many bountiful maple trees
Every fall, young Meemee would watch with fascination
As all the young men and boys in her tiny northwood camp
Eagerly headed off in their sturdy handmade birchbark canoes
To catch huge sturgeon, and to harvest wild rice with their hands
Summertime in the land of a thousand lakes and gigantic green forests
Was truly always this Native American girl’s very favorite time of the year
That’s when Meemee’s father White Hawk took her on long canoe journeys
To study birds and track marks of all the northwood creatures including deer
“Meemee, sit very silently now, and listen very closely,
And you will soon hear the song of the bird I named you after!”
As young Meemee sat transfixed, listening to a tiny pigeon coo
Her heart always rejoiced, and she would now giggle with laughter
And young Meemee was truly a very observant and a patient student
She soon knew each song of every winged creature in the tall pine trees
And she truly loved very skillfully following the track marks of many animals
As they often led her to the deep blue river flowing very serenely to the sea
This young Ojibwe girl also became a very proficient and talented native artist
Painting intriguing pictures of birds, animals, and men on huge lakeshore stones
I’ve always delighted in searching for these historical paintings called pictographs
Whenever I’ve eagerly explored the northwood’s vast lakes and forests on my own
“Come run the hidden pine trails of the forest,
Come taste the sun-sweet berries of the earth;
Come discover all of the riches all around you,
And for once, never wonder what they're worth.”
Both White Hawk and Young Meemee Are Characters
In My Time-Travel/Adventure Novel, Cemetery Island;
And I Continue To Dream That I Have Met Them Both,
In a Prior Life, In This Vast, Wondrous, Forested Land.
†2008, Mr. Ed
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truly enjoyable reading
Peace be with you
William
Fee
Happiness
Micke
Be always safe,
Karen
Christine
Love,
Tiger Lily
(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :D
Most excellent Ed! I look forward to reading your books.
Burn a few words so Manitu will have them wrapped in smoke.
Georg
(((HUGS))) and love, Karla.
I still need to buy your books and as I was reading this very well written poem, I was thinking to myself that Meemee's story would make a nice book (Proof I need to buy it! HA!)
Thank you for sharing this poem. Whether you are championing the cause of animal rights or writing about other things, you're always the master storyteller.
Take care,
Jill