WHEN SHALL WE MOURN?

BY NOLAN JAMES BRIDEN

Thesis-River-Kinship-Mourn-Exhiled

The thesis is still the wind.

A collective of tears that blow in the winds, I watch the day take shape. Shapes that form into light out of light. Lights that shimmer in the daylight. Rivers and rivers that flow across times, divides. Rivers that connect lands.

Home.

I’ve heard it said that home is where the heart is. Home is where I find kindship with my relatives as I learn — relearn how to look for them. The relations to the earth, sky, universe. The thesis of my life is yet to be told. The thesis of my life is to have an end.

The thesis.

I remember my mom wanting to go back to school and in her lifetime she never did. I think maybe I can. I mourn the ones who have passed on. When should I mourn in these long corridors that reflect a version of myself, as I walk the miles of complexes. Reflection shout out with each step that I take. Perceptions of what, of who, of me, of life. Exiled into where I’m supposed to be at the time I’m supposed to be. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be. | NLB

NOLAN JAMES BRIDEN WAS RAISED IN PORTLAND, OREGON. HIS ROOTS BLOOM FROM RICH CULTURES, BLACKFEET AND IRISH. HE WRITES: “I’M JUST GETTING TO A POINT IN THE EXPLORATION OF WRITING TO BE ABLE TO SAY IT IS A RELATIONSHIP THAT I UNDERSTAND; THEN, I READ A DIFFERENT STYLE, FORM, OR WAY OF WRITING AND MY JOURNEY RESTARTS TO UNDERSTAND.” NOLAN IS A MEMBER OF THE LAKOTA OYATE-KI CULTURE CLUB AT OREGON STATE PENITENTIARY AND HE IS A FOUNDING MEMBER OF THE GROUND BENEATH US WRITING GROUP.