Naked Wisdom 72

ᎢᏧᎳ ᎤᎸᏉᏓᏎ ᎪᏩᏘ
ᏴᏫᏁ ᎠᎴᏂᏙᎠᏁᏖ ᏧᏦᏓᎵᏗ ᎭᏫᎾ,
ᏌᏌᏗ ᎩᏂᏠᏱ.
ᎠᏎᏃ ᏴᏫ
Ꮭ ᎨᏒᎠᏎ ᏌᏌᏗ.

We like to see
people living in pairs,
like geese.
But people
are not geese.

Text and image © 2019 by Donald C. Traxler.

ᎤᏰᎸᎭ ᎠᎦᏙᎲᏍᏗ 72

ᎢᏧᎳ ᎤᎸᏉᏓᏎ ᎪᏩᏘ
ᏴᏫᏁ ᎠᎴᏂᏙᎠᏁᏖ ᏧᏦᏓᎵᏗ ᎭᏫᎾ,
ᏌᏌᏗ ᎩᏂᏠᏱ.
ᎠᏎᏃ ᏴᏫ
Ꮭ ᎨᏒᎠᏎ ᏌᏌᏗ.

ᎠᎭᏂ, ᎤᎵᎾᏫ ᎠᎹᏰᎵ ᎾᎿ / Here, on Turtle Island

ᎠᎭᏂ, ᎤᎵᎾᏫ ᎠᎹᏰᎵ ᎾᎿ,
(ᏃᏊ Ꮭ ᎤᎵᎾᏫ-ᎦᏙᎦ),
ᏘᏲᎭᎵ, ᎠᏆ ᎤᎾᎵ,
ᎠᏓᏩᏛᏔᏎ ᎠᏴ ᏂᎦᏛ ᎢᎦ.
ᎯᎠ ᎭᎾᏂ ᎭᏫᎾ,
ᏔᎵ-ᎦᏅᏍᎨᏂᏗ ᎤᎭᏎ ᎠᎾᎵᎪᎲᏍᎪᏁ
ᎤᎪᏗᏗ ᏅᎩ-ᎦᏅᏍᎨᏂᏗ ᎥᎿᎢ.
ᎠᏯ ᎨᏳᎠᏎ Ꮎ ᎠᎾᎵᎪᎲᏍᎪᏁ.

Here, on Turtle Island,
(now not Turtle Tail),
Lizard, my friend,
visits me every day.
In this place,
two-leggeds have the company
of many four-leggeds.
I love that company.

Decompression

This is a great decompression time for us. Lizard, my power animal, is everywhere. They are mostly small geckos, but certainly not to be underestimated. I have heard that there are also iguanas, which our hostess does not like but I probably would. There is also an extended family of gorgeous, Egyptian geese living wild on this street. It is good to see nature flourishing, in many forms.

Dale's two dogs are wonderful, a joy to her, and to us.

My new ma-te "para nerviosos" is La Selva instead of Cabral, and I can see that I will only need to use 2/3 as much, so the 2kg that I bought will last a long time. Was quite surprised to find it, but we went to a local Latino market, and they actually had a section for Uruguayan and Argentine food.

The Anakena Carmenere that we bought was truly excellent, and I was able to have my normal Jameson nightcap. All is well. Todo bien.

ᏘᏲᎭᎵ

Text and image © 2019 by Donald C. Traxler.

History Lives in Him / ᎧᏃᎮᏍᎩ ᎠᎴᏂᏙᎠᏎ ᎠᏨᏴ ᎭᏫᎾ

History lives in him,
and he will be faithful
to his people.

ᎧᏃᎮᏍᎩ ᎠᎴᏂᏙᎠᏎ ᎠᏨᏴ ᎭᏫᎾ,
ᎠᎴ ᎠᏨᏯᎢ ᎨᏒᎣᏎ ᎤᏬᎯᏳ
ᎤᏤᎵ ᏴᏫ ᏗᏜ.

Text and image © 2019 by Donald C. Traxler.

Warily, He Looks Out on a New Day / ᎠᏓᏓᏰᏙᏗ ᎬᏙᏗ

Warily, he looks out on a new day,
another country,
the start
of a new life.

ᎠᏓᏓᏰᏙᏗ ᎬᏙᏗ,
ᎠᏨᏯᎢ ᎭᎦᏔᏎ ᏙᏰᎩ
ᎢᏤ ᎢᎦ ᎾᎿ,
ᏄᏓᎴ ᎡᎶᎯ,
ᎠᎴᏅᏙ ᎢᏤ ᎥᎴᏂᏙᎲ ᎥᎿᎢ.

Text and image © 2019 by Donald C. Traxler.

Return to the Old Country

It was the best of days, and
in many ways,
the worst.
Two-van
caravan
to Carrasco airport,
friends arrived
to say goodbye.
Hugs and tears.

There was Executive-class
food and service,
but after eleven hours,
we landed in a string of storms,
after long delay.
For the first time
in six years,
I set foot
on United States
concrete.

The first three people
who spoke to me in Miami
spoke to me, just
assuming comprehension,
in Spanish.
It was everywhere,
though not the Rioplatense
I had grown used to.

Outside, for two hours,
we waited fruitlessly
for a Super Shuttle,
in spite of a two-month
reservation.
We are done with them.
We were two old people,
waiting on that curb
in the middle of the night,
trapped by our belongings.

Approaching a taxi agent,
I explained our
big problem.
He said, "I can do that,"
and I was never more grateful
for that familiar,
"can-do" attitude.
He sent us a wonderful
Filipino woman
in a mini-van,
who rescued us.

Now we're at the home
of a dear friend,
surrounded by palm trees.

It's easy, though,
to put myself back
on that airport
curb, with the hum
of a large fan,
put there to waft away
the carbon monoxide.
In my ear,
over and over,
the modulated hum
of the fan sounded like
"O beautiful,
for spacious skies ..."

"O beautiful,
for spacious skies..."

Text and images © 2019 by Donald C. Traxler.