prairiepomes

The new home of Fifth World Journal, Anna Marie Sewell's blog

Recent Blog Posts

St. Eugene: Not a Poetry Video (yet)
Posted
Here are the gates. Beside them, an image from an older time, another purpose. Here is the gorgeous architecture. And beside it, tribute to the children brought here. Building and children face East, where the sun rises steadfast over blue mountains. Here is the message, the new mission. And here...
Published at prairiepomes
Busy Bees Salute
Posted
To be ten, is to be at the crest of a wave the best of your days have led up to this height where the view of the future is open and brave and you’ve grown past your fear of the night. These young girls, in their tender years already wise, for their fathers survived... Read More
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Waking: Another Video Poem Experiment
Posted
Probably going to rerecord this, but here’s the rough: Another poem from Fifth World Drum, rendered into another form.
Published at prairiepomes
Journey Prayer: Audio Recording
Posted
Here’s the audio recording I’ve made of a poem from Fifth World Drum.
Published at prairiepomes
Unkai: Sea of Fog
Posted
this morning, unkai – the sea of fog – unrolls train valley Oe-san and browning peaks around all swim in mist slow down feather grey engine sighing smoke kisses mist sun weaves thin air banners between lowering waves of cloud it begins above train arrival chimes one note falling far f...
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Coming to Canada: A Gardener’s Meditation, Part 2
Posted
Coming to Canada: A Gardener’s Meditation, Part 2
Walk Lightly As for my Indigenous paternal family, the roots of connection to land had been seared and cauterized in so many joints. You can see it in the thickened waist, that telltale stress-marker of starvation and trauma, passed down into phenotype. Grandma wore it gloriously, the bear’s body...
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Coming to Canada: A Gardener’s Meditation, Part 1
Posted
Coming to Canada: A Gardener’s Meditation, Part 1
A garden is a long work. Yes, you can turn soil, plant seeds, harvest in that same fall. In that sense, to grow a garden is a simple task, unskilled labour; weed a little, watch the water, wait on the season, and done. Gardening, though, is more than this. It is the communion of human... Read More
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Practice
Posted
This is not the garden yet, but a beginning, seventeen years worth work submitted to wills and whims of climate. Mid-April and the ground only now in view, shawls of snow lying about like dirty underwear after a particularly long night. The mud, the mud, it’s all mud. Who knows what survives? One...
Published at prairiepomes
On the Topic of Fishing*
Posted
Miss Manners is strangely quiet on the topic of fishing; she sits in meditation on the point where necessity goes to the highest bidder. All Life is sacred, her granny taught; so the fish is sacred as is the worm, as is her own belly, engine house of her soul. How to honour all this?... Read More
Published at prairiepomes