Set aside your usual reflections and make space for poetry. Joy Harjo writes with extraordinary clarity about the tensions and perseverance of life in America. Her Country—Muscogee (Creek) Nation—Currently based primarily in Oklahoma, they were forcibly relocated from Oklahoma in the 1830s. trail of tearsthe effects of which can be seen in ongoing discrimination.
Her words below stand alone. “Ordinary language cannot convey meaning beyond our understanding.”
Bless this land from the top of your head to the soles of your feet.
From the old white head of the North Pole to the brown feet of the tropical rain
Blessed be the eyes of this land, for they see the cruelty and kindness of this land.
From the upright light of sunrise to the night when I fall to my knees
Blessed are the ears of this land, for here they hear cries of sorrow and cries of celebration.
When you no longer hear gunfire in this land, you can hear the trees and stones singing.
Bless the mouth, the lips, and the speech of this land, for it is the speaker, the singer, and the keeper of all that happens in this land.
Glowing forests, oceans, and rocky cliffs are sold for gold, uranium, and the trash glut of the oil crisis, but there are new stories to be made, and little stories are emerging from beyond the horizon.
Bless the arms and hands of this land as they remake and restore the beauty of this land.
We have been kept in a ring around these lands by song, and we have been reminded by those who know that one is not above the other, that there is no man above the birds, no bird above the insects, and no wind above the grass.
Bless the heart of this land as we kneel and plant food under the everlasting circle that breathes, swims and walks this land.
The heart is the maker of poetry. The poet said, “One mind, one body, every poem makes one poem, and we use no words to wage war in this land.”
Bless the bowels of this land, for it is the heart of its unknowns.
Celebrate the feminine and masculine of this land. This is because each of them has the power to succeed in this land.
When it was decided that this would happen in this place, in this land, all the birds made a bird noise from Aizora Hold.
Bless the two-legged and the two-legged of this earth, for here the sacred always walks alongside the profane.
These words walk through the roots of this land and massage the tissue around the cord of life, the tree of life upon which this land stands.
Bless the destruction of this land, for out of fire, flood, earthquake, and fierce wind, new shoots will rise and renew this land.
We’re on land on a turtle’s back—When the weight of greed overwhelms us, who will remember the pure songs of this land?
Bless the creation of a new land. Through the chaos, we will remember to bless this land.
The least memorable person, the most humble person, the one whose voice you would have to bend down for a thousand years to hear.—start from there
Bless us, this land, said the Memoir. These lands are not our lands. These lands are not your lands. We are this land.
And the blessing began to move gracefully through the grass of time, from the beginning to a place that revolved around time, always moving, always
Traditional Muskoke (Muscogee) Song
Chehotsaktes – video 1:11, with translation
It is said that two beloved women sang this song when the band came on the Trail of Tears. One woman was walking at the front of the crowd, and the other was walking at the back with her small children. When someone stumbled, they would sing this song to support them.
Chehotsaktes
Chenaoractes momis comet
Awaken Ohapeyakares Hvurwen
Don’t get tired.
Don’t be discouraged. Be determined.
come. Let’s aim high together.
“Bless this land.” in American Sunrise: Poetry Written by Joy Harjo (2019), 106-108.
Note: The Muscogee language is incredibly expressive. Speakers can construct complex meanings from a single root word, layering prefixes and suffixes to represent entire sentences of English in a single word. —Jack B. Martin, Creek (Muscogee) grammar (University of Nebraska Press, 2011).
April 2026 will be the 30th National Poetry Month.
Source: 2 + 2 = 5 – williamgreen.substack.com
