Under the Mask.
Caught woodenly in time,
lifeless masked figures
wait patiently for like spirits recognized
in those bits of carved cottonwood and paint—
butterfly maiden, corn mother, eagle dancer,
fierce ogre, horned owl, striped clown,
a pantheon of fragmented faces
equaling the whole of humanity.
The true kachina walk softly,
treading among the People,
seeking solace on desolate mesas
a barren place surrounded by painted sands
where believers shoulder the heavy burden
of turning the world under bare feet,
to the oblivion of modern civilization.
Dancers don their disguises,
borrowed from the spirit world,
and with a measured breath,
a tempo of tradition,
beat time into the dust and ash,
a plea for cleansing rains,
the turning of the seasons,
and the salvation of humankind.
Love elephant and want to go steady?
Editorial Apprentice: Jamie Khoo/Editor: Emily Bartran