Creative Writings
Selected Poems by
Kimberlee Medicine Horn Jackson
Warrior Blessing
Bless this warrior with
feet rooted in the all-encompassing
way of the Spirit.
Help him not to shrink in fear
or become blinded by fury,
nor confused by murmuring
voices.
Bless this warrior in battles of the mind,
heart, soul, and body
with an unwavering knowing of You.
Bless this warrior with boldness, courage,
strength and endurance.
Kimberlee Medicine Horn
Even If
We all come from Creator’s hand,
molded and shaped from dusty red earth.
And even if we lack all that you say we do,
there is beauty in the broken and damaged people.
Without us, the church is the deformed body of Christ; see,
A limb is missing and worse, there is a hole in the heart.
Kimberlee Medicine Horn
His Son
He stood behind his aging dad,
arms outstretched to almost
touch his back, lest his dad
collapse in an awkward heap.
He never knew what would happen
in those unpredictable
electric moments.
Each man gulped anxiety,
until their muscles were sore afraid
but never uttered a word.
Trust was healing them,
with vulnerability unleashed
without shame or fear or regret.
Courage required weakness.
His son took it all in,
carried the burden,
and loved him,
never guessing he was
the good medicine
for his aging dad.
Kimberlee Medicine Horn
Her Good Medicine
The summer my dad’s kidneys were failing,
his vibrancy slipped away
almost imperceptibly.
His skin resembled papyrus,
yellowed-tinged and crisp,
but his blue eyes still rivaled
that early evening expansive sky
over Lake Erie where I escaped
almost daily. The setting sun a witness
to my chunky-sobs and distorted tears
from active grief I never
wanted him to see as he approached
the end of his road; the end of our road.
Grief came in waves and soaked into the sand
and some waves tumbled the smaller rocks
along the shore while others left a trail of foam.
Hundreds of seagulls echoed my grief
as if to hasten it as some small offering of comfort.
Later on, the sinking sun scattered sparkles
of hope inviting me back another day
to take in her good medicine.
Kimberlee Medicine Horn
Mid-morning flight
They might be swallows
that perch on the powerlines
in the front yard at the end of the driveway
to rest from erratic flight
and congregate in groups of three
or sometimes pairs. Their triangular
wings stutter before they alight,
distanced enough from the looming beiged-cloud
to appear as muted dark against blurred light.
They glide and swoop, perhaps
scooping insects for lunch.
They rest then scatter,
rest then scatter.
They might be swallows.
Kimberlee Medicine Horn
John and Jesus
After Matthew 3: 4, 16 & 17
The man who prepared the way
feasted on locusts and honey
clothed in camel hair belted with leather
and baptized any who desired.
Then there was One
who drew a long breath before
He fell back into then under the water
Where He lingered before
rising from the watery grave,
long hair dripping, his face wet,
and undeniably clothed in
unquenchable joy.
The open heavens sang.
Kimberlee Medicine Horn
None Dare Call it Love
The rain falls down and down through today,
and into tomorrow and beyond
building shallow ponding in the low places
of the back yard. The sometimes creek
bumbles and gurgles over thick clumps of
sullen leaves that never dared to fly
in the time of falling and fleeing.
It was later in spring from another year ago
that I think of your colorless face as it turned
away from me, disappearing into the depths
of the place where people go when
they no longer want to live.
I wanted to hold you in my arms then,
but you were nothing more than a thick
clump of empty leaves and it was
best for us both that I left with
aching arms.
Kimberlee Medicine Horn
Mother
She sent torrential rain to
supersaturate the soil, meant
to loosen trees of their hold
and send boulders crashing
down the hillside.
It was her way of protesting
the injustices of the careless
human hands that leveled tree lines
and reduced them to barren landscapes
bereft of oxygen and green.
And we wrung our hands, anxious.
Hoping for a miracle to stop
the mud from overtaking
roads, or to redirect the debris.
Little wonder the violent water
was showing its power to undo
all that we have done.
Kimberlee Medicine Horn