What is my Totem?

 What is my Totem?

Readers, here is a challenge for you. 

Imagine what your forefathers and foremothers were like, people living closer to the natural world, and/or more directly reliant on their physical skills and their tribe or clan for survival. What name would your forefather and foremother bestow upon you now, given what you are like in your current life, your personality, your characteristics, your skill set, your persona as you see it. Try to capture in a word or two what you do, what you like, or what you are like. Alternatively, you can come up with an image of what you aspire to be. As examples, think of totemic Native American names. Red Cloud, Black Hawk, or Young Bear. Let your imagination run free. Have fun with this exercise. Once Patti and I were on a hike after a summer thundershower, and Patti was ahead of me on a tree-lined trail. She happened to bump a tree branch showering us with water. I came up with a name for her, “Makes Trees Weep.” It may be difficult to contain your personality in just a couple words, so come up with a few names, or add a surname. Some examples that I came up with for myself include these: Thom Timber, Laughing Bird, Heart Write, Love Life, First Light, with the surname Water Walker. 

The next step, if you are so inclined, is to write a short poem or story about the persona or personas you have chosen for yourself. Again here are some examples of what I wrote.

Laughing Bird

The loon loves the placid lake water,

The laughing bird of the North.

You hear his many voices there,

Wails like a wolf,

Yodels like a seagull,

Hoots like an owl,

Laughs a tremolo.

Drifting his canoe quietly on these waters,

Laughing Bird gets near the loon so close,

He glimpses the bird’s red eyes, 

Before he dives deep for fish.

Man and bird, laughing birds, 

Singers, paddlers, lovers of the lake.

Love Life

Tasting the many flavors of the world,

With the love of my life.

Traveling afar by boat, by bike, by hike.

Venturing in the natural world,

Where, down the path,

One can find their own true nature.

Being in every moment.

Loving every moment of life.

First Light

Faint at first

Like a candle at night

He knows this light

He arises before the sun to write

To greet the sun in its first light

Thom Timber

He takes his axe and buck saw

Gathers a cord of wood

Strikes the flint on the sparking steel

Sets the hearth a-glowing

He is a good son

Warms his olde Mum

Henceforth shall be called Timber

Thom Timber, fire keeper.

Heart Write

Opens it every day

Inside sunny or fey and gray

It’s the heart of the poet at play

To welcome words as light rays

To express what’s been stashed away

To write really is to pray