Margaret Noodin (previously Margeret Noori, born 1965) is an American poet and Anishinaabemowin language teacher. She is an Assistant Professor of English and American Studies at the University of Wisconsin–Milwaukee.
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Poems From Weweni by Margaret Noodin
Here are some of the poems that I loved reading from Margaret Noodin’s Weweni.
- Blue-Green Becoming
Under the shore before Spring
the Water Panther changes colors
taking off his blue coat
putting on his green coat
dancing brilliantly covered in algae
feeding, feeding
the days and nights
making food of sunshine
teasing earth to bloom.
2. Night Syrup
Question: Why is some maple syrup is dark and some is light?
Answer: Because some we boil at night.
Jim Northrup in Walking the Rez Road
I stir sweet maple into coffee
And I ask myself,
“What is the flavor
of night syrup?”
An ancient iron kettle?
Northern cedar?
A lick of smoke?
or
The wing of a crow?
The brown eye of a moose?
A new path in the woods?
The sound of a heartbeat at midnight?
then I understand
The sweet dark liquid tastes like life.
3. Sweet Water
When the blanket of snow is removed
when crows dance beneath the trees
when visitors arrive among the branches
I offer them sweet water
the sap of their dreams
rivers of spring overflowing.
The weather a mother made new
who loves as she is loved
reminds every mother
she is always a daughter.
4. Crane
Under the night sun
near the far tree
atop the stone cliff
the crazy crane is standing.
Remembering who? Remembering what?
Insects eaten? Seeds that satisfied?
I hear nothing
in the star mist
far from the worn pebbles
so I whisper.
How’s the weather over there?
Are storms or sunshine in your heart?
5. Northern Lights
Five animals traveled together
while grandmother moon sliced the sky.
Deerfly zummed,
“The sky is as green as my eyes.”
Rabbit trembled,
“The sky echoes in my ears.”
“I will dance,” whispered Snake
“like a ribbon behind the pines.”
“I want this wind to consume me,”
whispered the frog.
Meanwhile, dog thought,
“I smell the sky-hunters.”
6. Together Between
The man arrives.
He thinks of drinking the woman.
“I’m cold,” he says, “hold me.”
And then while the sky hums
she pours the liquid of her soul.
Together they are braided . . .
fingers in the direction of the evening star
fingers in the direction of the morning star
woven like roots or cloud stems.
Together between heaven and earth . . .
they are seen by the Sun, the Moon, and the Old Ghosts
they breathe without thinking
they converse without speaking.
Mixed, in the center, one half, the other half.
7. Warmed By The Sun
One by one they are emptied.
One by one they will be overflowing,
made warm by the sun
breath materialized
poured by maternity.
Eyes opening,
eyes closing,
they are exalted in the night, in the dawn.
8. Eternal Counting
As a pair, they rotate
turning in the wind,
spinning, swimming in the sky
Sun, Moon, pushing one another.
Eternal counting.
The tide comes in,
the tide goes out,
the way we are all bound,
the way we all unravel.
9. Daughters
Our connection is like
otters holding hands
floating together
on the sea and in sleep.
Once shared veins
became a way of life
tangled and blinking
casting nets and anchors.
And when your days burn down
I will sift ashes with you
to find the pine seeds
and raspberry roots.
I will teach you
to hear the spirits shake
to wear the northern lights
to shift shapes in the night
to believe in the beautiful humility
of one
bead sun sewn
differently.
10. We Give Them
We give them plumes and quills,
and downy tips to wear
while dancing like smooth currents.
They become golden-feathered
half-breeds in the burnt forest
part oak, part fern.
Solid branches,
soft bracken, they are
traders in an evolved economy.
Our decorated children
nourished on new ideas
possibly able to avoid old battlefields.
11. Sun And Moon
You are the sun and the moon
and the sky-bright bay to me.
You are the crevices of black oak
and scarred shine of white birch.
You know cobbled roads and deer paths
and the taste of wild ginger.
You are all I know and all I forget
in the shadow of day and the arc of night.
12. The Way We Meet
The problem that confronts us today, and which the nearest future is to solve, is how to be oneself, and yet in oneness with others, to feel deeply with all human beings and still retain one’s own characteristic qualities.
Emma Goldman, 1906
Long ago in the mixing
we were shaken
in every direction
different children
of the sky and the land.
To survive now we must
be at peace in our hearts
understand one another
and bravely remember
we are all, one by one, cousins.
Let’s meet one another
here now on earth before
we become heavenly ancestors
wearing a necklace of stars
visible to our heirs.
13. Children Of The Waters
Bíonn dúil le béal farraige ach cha bhíonn dúil le béal uaighe. There is hope from the mouth of the sea but not from the mouth of the grave.
Ulster proverb
In the sea I can hope
in the grave I pray alone.
What happens when the bones are dried,
when the little leaves have become sticks,
when the sow’s ears are in salt?
Do they leave together
the language and
the last breath?
Yes . . . maybe yes . . . it will be lost
when we no longer hear the open waters
and we see our graves are empty.
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This is all we have on today’s post on Poems From Weweni by Margaret Noodin . This is, however, not an exhaustive list, and if we have missed out on some of your favorites, then please feel free to add them in the comment section below.
Until next time!
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Best Poems From Weweni By Margaret Noodin
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Ruth Russell
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Here are some of the best poems from Weweni by Margaret Noodin.
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