Known Him 50 Year. Still Ain't Gots a Clue as to His Name. Don't Matter Tho.
This ol' desert broad sits a'side the desert Sage once a year. As I entered his old, abandoned mine, I saw him hunch'd over his fire, his left arm slab'd in a sling. He motion'd with t'other to come and sit.
I did so and asked, "Are you hurt bad?"
His old, but still sparkl'n eyes a'flect'n the fire, grinned and said, "I ask you. Have you ever encountered anyone hurt good?"
T'was gonna be a might interest'n night. You can't get the drop on a desert Sage. Nope.
"I have a medicine bag in my possibles. Maybe I can tend your hand," I offered.
He spoke softly that he need'd no tend'n, so I adjust'd my butt and warmed my hands by the fire, a'wait'n him to say more. Took awhile, but he finally spoke 'agin.
"You have come far. Begin emptying your concerns and we'll discuss them," he said, gently.
"World just done gone crazy. Noth'n makes much sense a'tall. Government be broken bad and noth'n get'n done to help the people," I gushed.
He looked into the fire and said, "Modern age of darkness. Always the first act in the play of changes."
"Well, ain't you a bundle'a hope," I sputtered. "Them black robes on the Supreme Court is say'n corporations be people. People!"
As the fire popped and crackl'd the Sage sat with his eyes closed. He be a quiet man with quiet words. He finally spoke.
"Corporate personhood might evolve to the full status of a God to be served by the people unto itself. Has it not begun, this new form of slavery?" he asked.
Scary thought. How could I answer him? People of all ages were already in the streets occupy'n and such. Get'n the crap beat out of 'em or get'n squirt'd with poison. Even those fluff'd up reporter people be'n banned.
"People are com'n 'round and wak'n up. Tak'n to the street," I said.
Watch'n the stars through the open'n of the mine, I waited for him to respond. I added some wood to the fire and pour'd us each some blueberry wine I had made. Then I slice'd colby cheese to go with the fry bread I brought along. We both sat quiet-like and ate. Watch'n stars drop from the sky.
After a long drink of wine he turned to me and nod'd his thanks. I nod'd back a welcome.
"Sometimes neglect dismantles great ships and they get replaced. But you know that, She of Two Spirits."
Slow, I may be. Punchy, I ain't. I suppose my face look'd a tad quizzl'd.
"Humm," I said slowly. "Is that one of your dicotomie thingy's you like to mutter about? 'Cause my telegraph ain't dot'n and dash'n. Line must be down."
As the old Sage's smile widen'd, his eyes flash'd in the firelight. His smile be pretty, it was. He took a swig'a wine and remain'd taciturny. I sat like a lump and thought 'bout a Ship o'State, in pieces, drift'n ashore.
For a hand of time, silence passed between us. Finally, a huge sigh came from the Sage. He shifted and said, "Your spirits are not in tune, She of Two Spirits. One resides in stillness, but the other is in turbulent murmuration. Let it speak."
"How can so few, have so much, when so many, have so little?" I asked.
"Stupidity," he said bluntly. Then just as bluntly said, "On a grand scale."
Thought he'd say, greed. Word everyone else be use'n. Ain't the first time the ol' coot did his left-field, thingy. Happens every wintarmanoth visit I make to see him.
"Villagers get'n antsy about that end of the world, 2012 thingy. Aztecs, calendars and such. I be feel'n, even though it be hog slop, some be unsure. Like a pond ripple almost invisible. Even the weather signals somethin' queer. Desert be warmer than any time I've known," I said.
"Desert wasn't always a desert," he said very quietly, reach'n for another plop a fry bread.
Reckon he be right. Change comes, no matter what. Been that way since awareness gave birth to thought.
False dawn signaled. I once again offer'd to tend his hand a'fore I left. He declined again and I pack'd up my possibles and began to leave. I turned at the mine entranced and said, "What did you do to your hand, anywho?"
"Remember this, She of Two Spirits. Never lose your balance when wiping your butt," he said with a chuckle.
Sage advice, I a'reckon.