Celinda set the intentionality for our final pipe ceremony to be gratitude. I am currently sitting outside a coffee shop in California feeling grateful for the opportunity to be here with Kendall and feeling grateful to have the space and time to reflect on the experiences from this past block. I have decided to write a poem. It’s called ‘Gratitude’.
It filled our space
and shaded out the intricate elements
of that song with the catchy rift
so we were left with the essentials:
the trumpet, imbued with clarity, soaring over the drum line.
The little things that piled up,
and crowded our space, blew right out the window
with that excessive musical matter,
as we drove down the coast.
‘What’s the plan?’ was never a question.
We spoke of friends and experiences
that transcend time.
Laughs and smiles constantly returned to our faces.
We never felt worried or uneasy,
nor felt the burdens of structure.
We drove down the 1,
with the vast ocean constantly by our side.
It welcomed us to share
and to be as open with it, as it is with us.
We meandered left and right on the coastal road,
and our conversation did the same.
Stories that unfolded the layers of various relationships and
explored observations of the ‘why’ and the ‘how’
presented themselves in constant lull.
The warmth and consistency
of this light is not unlike the friends we constantly spoke about.
These people provide us with support
and a springboard of inspirational ideas when we ask questions.
As we drove down the coast,
with our sunglasses on,
music and words entered and left the space.
The sun constantly shown and
we felt the love of our friends and family
with each smile that they brought to us.