In the presence of god and all of his creation I will tell you the stunning amazement that is the northern lights.
The way that god will drain the tub he relaxes in. Just so we can be rained upon by this phenomenon called aurora borealis. Graciously dancing across the sky we have known as blue. Knowing it is nothing more than a universe full of questions I am afraid to ask. So tell me.
I want to know how they felt 100 years ago. How did your culture interpret this magic sky shifting juncture that formed ballets above them. Tell me how they navigated the north star. A fixture in the sky meaning nothing but everything to the right person. Finding the broken piece between reality and imagination. Our compass has been thrown off by the deception lain across our flesh.
Let this culture lead by example. That we may one day step outside our lightbulb lives and exist in the moment that we use to call the world. Moments like sunsets and the things we refer to as constellations. May those anomalies cross your brain, find you broken in bed. Clawing out of your chest trying to show you what it is to feel. Embrace what your ancestors left. Dreams of a sustainable culture. Get off your ******* phone and cross the lagoon. Respect the chucks of history laid on your shoulder. It is not just a chip.
May those moments haunt you in your dreams. And have the culture injected into your veins. Have this as a message. Fill your dreams with nightmares of a village under water. Drowning in learned helplessness. Not understanding which direction is up when the clouds are out.
America has taught us that the past is irrelevant. That in historical events we have always made the best decision. That slavery was justified, if you ask the right person. Columbus was god upon men. Yesterday is gone for we will embroider the memories of what once was into any shape we desire. And America has given up and now PBR belongs to Russia.
This stand is for you, Inupaiq Eskimos. Let the Eskimo games begin. Show this culture that you have not forgotten the importance of your ankles. The function of chasing Caribou. May the preservative dust upon the shelf as you are dusting the tundra for dinner. Shall we build a fortified wall around the unique skills no one will dig their fingernails into.
Live off the land under the toes of the greedy americans. Show them the flowers that have been stomping upon and how these flower heal the broken hearts held in their chest. The flat land that is looked after as boring with a hint of forgotten. Show them the importance of leveled landscape. Where to find the hidden dips in the skin of our earth. How your bones will forgive you for this moment of rest.
I will never be an Eskimo. I have only live here for a few months of my life. But ****** son, stand up with your spine into your skull. Connecting you with right now and days we have left behind. Please take a moment. Read a book. Learn a trade. Apply the sinews attached to the bones in your chest, and take a moment to breathe in your heritage. Take your first breathe and see life, as it is meant to be.
I live in a small village full of 380 Inupaiq Eskimos at the top of the world. Just a few thoughts about the culture here.