Watch the smudge smoke billow
The grey flickers of smoldering sage melting together with wisps of diamond willow fungus dance together like soulmates who have been apart for centuries, moving as one
The tobacco melds with them then, cedar joining soon after
The last to join the smokey reunion of spirits and souls is the sweet grass, braided like my kokum's long black hair back in the days when she was young, crossing the bridge to go to the residential school down the street
the smoke billows, like the medicines were never apart, like the culture wasn't beat from our hands with the very priest's belt that was supposed to find us salvation
Every time you smudge, you are not just cleansing your soul, your space, your area. You are cleansing your ancestors, washing away the abuse, the separation, the loneliness, for their spirits take shelter in the smoke. Their spirits rejoice in the essence of the medicines, proud that their teachings were not forgotten.
Never forget this,
for one day,
You will be the spirit
Dancing in the smoke
Of the smudge.
-smudge smoke
