Ogimaag Mitigoog*

Height infused by your majesty

Skin rough but breakable

or smooth like marble baby

Arms stretched out for sun

or bent to the earth carefree

 

Tiny leaves for fingers

full of veins and light

grasp the rays

Make them sweet

Clever chiefs

Make their own energy

 

Autumn burning tips

Slowly mesmerizing creation

Smell of crunch and soil

The setting sun of seasons

 

Naked in the snow

Like living death

Dazzled with diamonds

Crowns of ice

 

Sacred sap in spring

Drips on cold metal buckets

Blooms and spinning seeds

Apples grow blushing cheeks

 

Summer sun spices the world

Humid air and burning concrete

Cool comfort under your shade

Your fruit and nuts fall

Bitter and sweet like life

 

Rings of life

You count your years

forest monks

Make forest temples

unyielding faith

Wind plays and wind sways

Your arms strong but humble

 

The smell of wet earth

Nurtures and grounds you

Half in the soil

Natures almighty anchor

Souls to revere and befriend

But man mistakes chiefs for peasants

And spoils your flesh in the end

 

Lucinda Wentworth is a student at Saginaw Chippewa Tribal College.

 * Ogimaag Mitigoog translates as “Chief Trees” in ojibwe.