Host Todd Boss enlists the help of Indigenous poet Sasha LaPointe to motivate Bonnie on a journey of healing and discovery.
A note from Todd
Bonnie came to me with a simple request: she wanted me to write something that
would motivate her to get back on her bike
after an accident. The more we talked, the more it became clear that Bonnie's passion is twofold: she loves cycling, and she also loves the Skagit Valley of western Washington state, with a transcendent passion that borders on the sacred. I've visited the Skagit Valley, and I remember how glorious it is. But I sensed Bonnie wanted something deeper than another rhapsodizing loco-descriptive poem from someone who didn't understand it as well as she did. And so, in a TAPIT first, I invited Sasha LaPointe, a member of the Skagit and Nooksack tribes of the region, to guest write Bonnie's poem. Drawing on her own rich heritage, Sasha was able to deepen Bonnie's appreciation for her own home, and learn a new language of praise for its resonant beauty.
The Poem
Cycles
by Sasha LaPointe
Winter comes to the valley
blanketing the world
hushed and grey
cold moons
are spent indoors
Səxʷši’cəlʔs
the moon to put your paddles away
pull the canoes onto the beach
this is the time for weaving
for making things
because this is the dying season
death settles and pulls
the leaves from their trees
like a dance like a ritual
of grief and ceremony
the land falling back
into hibernation
small waterways
quiet and frozen
but the tide is coming in
and a rush of wingspan
beats feathered knives
across the sky
a wind of swans returning
a formation that sings
I’m alive I’m alive
and now the river yawns
and wakes snow melts
down the mountains
blue herons dive
for blackmouth salmon
an alpaca is born
in the middle of a meadow
limbs loose and clumsy
its birth marks the moon
of the Salmonberry
when the earth stirs
and the huckleberries
are gathered while mothers
pick wild flowers
Pədstəgʷad
calls the world
into blooming
Red Sockeye
and new life
water rushing
and hawks sailing
over star shaped irises
that circle a fir tree
in prayer
this is the season
for celebration and movement
through days long with light
to embrace the time
as it cycles through
another moon
the final phase
Pədx̌ aʔx̌ aʔ
is for longhouse fires and storytelling
a time to learn from elders
this moon translated
means sacred
Bonnie responds
When I called you [Todd] to ask for a poem - I asked for something to inspire me. ... my own personal "Invictus." I was recovering from an injury and spiraling downwards. I was out of shape, de-conditioned, gaining weight and feeling depressed. After you let me know that you accepted my voicemail "pitch," I decided to prepare for your interviews by setting apart time to reflect on things that matter most to me, including the kind of person I want to be. And slowly, through the process of the interviews, I found my inspiration, not in a poem, but in myself. By participating in the process of listening, reflecting, and articulating the truest truths of my heart. I found I had the inspiration that I needed inside of me. It was there all along.
So when Sasha's poem came, it was a gift I could freely accept: a gift with no strings attached. I didn't feel the need for it to do more than any poem should be asked to do. I was able to just hold my open palms out to receive it, to let it speak to me, to enjoy its splendor just as it was. Enchanting and beautiful.
I am in Pədstəgʷad time. I am riding with the hawks and eagles, past the star shaped irises, in a place filled with prayers, first by the Coast Salish who knew it was a sacred place... I am alive! I am alive! For this is the season for celebration and light. I AM embracing the time, the moon, and the cycle that I am in. There is life and light and music in these words, and they drum rhythmically while I ride. I am alive! I am alive! I am alive! It just fits. It's just right. It's just me.
So I have gotten off the couch and back on my bike. I am averaging 100 miles a week. I have signed up for a (nearly) 200 mile ride… which starts in Seattle and ends in Vancouver BC and takes place over a 2 day period. My broken wrist has healed and I am getting lighter, stronger and faster. I am conditioned again, my legs are feeling strong again. I feel great!
But, just as Sasha's poem reminds me, this cycle, this moon, will someday come to an end and there will be another moon. The moon of Pədx̌ aʔx̌ aʔ. As all things are for bicyclists and mortals. We can't ride or live forever. Then it will be the final phase. But I am not there yet, and at least for now, I have more time before the next moon comes. And I am going to make every day matter. Because I'm alive! I'm alive!
Thank you, Todd. Thank you for giving Sasha the chance to write my poem. Thank you for choosing me to be a part of your process. I am so honored and so grateful.
Special music for this episode, entitled Volcano Bicycle, was created by Nir Yaniv.
Click to give it a listen, and check out Nir's other tracks on SoundCloud.
You can find out more about guest poet Sasha taqʷšəblu LaPointe by visiting her website. To purchase her books, head to our merchandise page. If you're interested in commissioning your own poem from Sasha, click here.
If you think there's a poem in your story, leave us a message on our Haiku, Hawaii, guest line, at 808-300-0449.
Become a TAPIT insider by clicking here to join Todd’s Patreon followers for sneak peeks, outtakes, and other supplementary material.