The lawn is overgrownAnd there's nothing I can do about itBecause I can't afford a lawn mower right now,Not even a $40 used lawn mower.As at other times in my life, I find myself waiting,Wanting to do the socially acceptable thingBut unable to do so because of finances.And so the grass and weeds grow up around meWith the flowers, flowers everywhere,In and amongst the weeds,A gift from one who years agoCared enough to plant them here.And until last night, I fretted about it.I concerned myself with neighborsAnd chiggers and ticks And dogs.But last night, as the sun went down,I thought I heard another voice say,“Perhaps it's supposed to be this way for now.Perhaps this is closer to reality.And perhaps it might soothe your Indian soul to let it be,And even to embrace it for a while.After all, you are half-wild.Only a part of you Wants the white man's ways.The rest, and perhaps the deeper partLongs to let things fare according to their nature.”I know that one day soon,Probably not too far into the future,I will be able to afford a lawn mower.And I will mow the lawnOr let somebody mow it for me. But when I do, I wonder if it would be wisdom in meTo find another way to let things be,To grow my hair metaphorically,To wander through the woods,And to be plain, and open, and wild, and free,For despite my genealogy,My soul is only half civilized At least half of me stands naked before the sun Loincloth hanging down from my hips,My skin brown, my arrow raised,At one with things as they are, Not longing for anythingExcept to liveAnd be.

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