I was prayed here for you to own…
I was given a prayer by my great Grandpa’s, Grandpas that never knew me.
Prayers for the children generations from past and present.
Sometimes grandpa would pull down the old green box, set it down carefully like it was the most fragile art in the world,
opening it as if it were the arc of the covenant. Then the stories would emerge as though he was reading pages in the air. In between reciting, he would grab a finely beaded Cheyenne rattle and sing an ancient song of the, for the, Grandmother peyote.
As a child I would wait for that certain day when he would open “the Green Box” because those days were far and few. Secrets need to be kept sacred and something sacred needs to be a secret, and those were Grandpa Mirabal’s secrets, locked up so tight that only cactus medicine like Peyote could open it, and unleash the fury, love and grandeur.