ST101 ... in the fields of ontario

a slow life in this mad world

In the fields of Ontario, across the wheat, the oat, the corn of mennonite land, coloured laundry blowing in the breeze, perfect rolls of vegetables, marigolds along the edge, cattle in the fields, prancing horses leading buggies along the sides of the roads, a slow life in this mad world, a calm nature in their shy smiles, a way forgotten amongst us most.

laundry blowing in the breeze, vegetables in a row, no hydro and christian

In the city people everywhere, vehicles trampling the tar, signs, lights, buildings growing, thoughts in arabic, french, mandarin bouncing off the walls, rolling along the streets, dreams and nightmares secretly in love expressed across the lips of her, an east indian, an innocent beauty, just new here from some highrise city across the seas. This is university and king, a cross road of two international universities here in the twin cities of KW southern ontario canada, google it, toggle it, smudge it.

KW southern ontario canada… on king st. looking south across the main train tracks overpasss…

Rahil, he works at the cafe, a graduate young man from Bangalore India, we hit it off right from day one, vibes. He said “I don’t miss much from India but i really miss my moms cooking.” A smart young man, kind, you can feel it in his eyes. He sees the difference here, the lack of family ties, the push for modernity in every breath swarming the streets and the turbulence of knowledge heading for the gods.
I love all these cultures, hanging around this intersection brings my blood alive, the red blood, the same colour of all whom walk by. Black skin, brown skin, white, yellow, tan skin….. but there is one colour seldom seen, red, they have been pushed to the bottom of the totem, possibly they are not even on it any longer. They are around though, just not here. They are busy keeping the flames of their ceremonies alive, the pow wow, sweat lodge, long houses, vision quests, rain and sun dancing, but most are living like everyone else, some are dying in the ditches. There are those few that continue to do the work where it really matters, a mysterious space, the spirit world.

Vern Harper - Urban Elder - lived within the flame

It is in the prophesies, the winds of time, the bent light wavering in across the fields of corn, it's in the basic matter, far beyond the discrimination of a weak science, it is all connected, Mitakuye Oyasin, we are all related, here, there and everywhere. The king of all universities roams just a few feet from us, at any given time, if you’re quick enough, you can hear the soft whispers blowing in from the trees, the seas, deep eternities.

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WeyWord Times / Writing and Images by Patrick Wey