Inupiaq Dance

Through long arctic days, the People move.

Shuttles on unseen looms,

Driftwood on uncharted currents,

Unchoreographed they dance;

Impelled by arctic nights

Or drifting, dripping northern lights,

These pent-up nomads move.

Driven by dark cold of endless winters

Snapping frost-rimed teeth at their backs,

Pushing them into the light,

Always into the light,

To dance in the sun,

The People move.

Under the eye of the boreal sun,

In slow-revolving zeitensprung,

In native helical strophes,

Answering ancient, cellular voices

Pulsing in subliminal drums,

Incessantly the people move.