06 February 2009
Pulling Down the Clouds
Poem by Ofelia Zepeda
Ñ-ku’ipadkaj ‘ant ‘an o ‘ols g cewagĭ.
With my harvesting stick I will hook the clouds.
Nt o ‘i-wannio k o ‘i-hudiñ g cewagĭ.
With my harvesting stick I will pull down the clouds.
Ñ-ku’ipadkaj ‘ant o ‘i-siho g cewagĭ.
With my harvesting stick I will stir the clouds.
With dreams of a distant noise disturbing his sleep,
the smell of dirt, wet, for the first time in what seemed
like months.
The change in the molecules is sudden, they enter
the nasal cavity.
He contemplates the smell, what is that smell?
It is rain.
Rain somewhere out in the desert.
Comforted in this knowledge he turns over and continues his sleep,
dreams of women with harvesting sticks
raised toward the sky.
“Pulling Down the Clouds” from Ocean Power by Ofelia Zepeda. © 1995 Ofelia Zepeda. Reprinted by permission of the University of Arizona Press.
