Today, a guest blog by a Kwe that needs to be heard because her journey has no map.

I love you!
HUGSSSSSSSSSSS
Sandi
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No Map
By: Savannah Upton
 

My journey has no map.
It was stolen long ago by faceless apparitions without their own
I have been searching for the way home for what seems like an eternity
I am weary and with every ache and pain I am reminded of my family’s lost identity
My mother’s dreams, my grandfather’s promise, all rest within my bones
The pathway is littered with birchbark scrolls and broken artifacts
Once cared for by proud and strong people, my people
They speak to me through the land, generations before me surging their energy into my soul like the river’s current
With their prayers come the flux of anger, disappointment, and deep sorrow from centuries of upset and trauma
The weight of a thousand disenfranchised heartbreaks
Broken promises whisper upon the strong wind to nag at my bones
Yet here I am, existing and becoming stronger each day from the weight I carry
I transform the journey
I use the pain as my canoe, and the hopes of my ancestors become the paddle
I stop resisting the winds and allow them to encompass me, guiding me downstream
Along the way, I reclaim and welcome the whispers the winds bring
They speak of prayers from generations of ancestors wanting more for me
Through their sorrow I feel their love reconciling my soul and returning my identity
For now, I must drift along the waters with their whispers to find
the path home
For my journey has no map