Return from the hunt
The elk placed in the center
The tribe celebrates the kill
Another month of meat
Later the elders tell the story of the hunt
And tomorrow the men will teach the kids
While the women get more food and prepare medicine
The sacred work keeping life alive
The way work is today
Doesn’t always feel sacred
But maybe naming our work as sacred again
Will make it move that way
I whoop for you on the first and fifteenth as the direct deposit,
The fresh kill, drops into checking
I set our insurance cards on the altar
And thank the divine and you too for the medicine
I lay out our tax return and dance around it
Thankful that we share some of the hunt with our state tribe, our federal tribe and our global tribe
Grandpa, I thank you for the many years you brought home the catch and for what you do now
A soul working wise elder, loving and teaching our next generation
Brother, thank you for teaching the children the songs and the stories and the math they’ll need
When it's their turn to hunt and gather the paycheck
I’m not a Pollyanna
I know it’s a broken and messed up system
I know your heart breaks too
But today I celebrate the other side of truth
That your work is still sacred
That you stand in a long line stretching back thousands of years, working to keep life alive