Hear the drums beat in the night
to sounds of shewolf spirit,
ancient rhythms
never lost
inside the throbbing heart of wild,
to echo far beyond
within the man-made mounts of mortar.
I open mind to follow, free,
music of soul,
across the raging rivers
of the world,
to climb to peak
reaching in rock
to lucid view of nature's truth,
where I find willing words
to bend to paper
in visage of the clarion calls
of my moonlit muse.
Author notes
In honour of Carol (shewolfnative).
A contest entry
- Contest: Honoring The One Who Honors Us All ~ for shewolfnative by Night Hope.
600 points, ended June 9, 2007, 24 entries
Honorable winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Shoot, I have a good doctor
Comments
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I have added this to my site as well...yes...this is so veyr beautiful, as I said... hmm, wonder why my comment did not take the first time... were you ahving trouble commenting earlier today as well?
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Thank you so much for putting this on your site. I am honoured.
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"never lost
inside the throbbing heart of wild,
to echo far beyond
within the man-made mounts of mortar."
"where I find willing words
to bend to paper
in visage of the clarion calls
of my moonlit muse."
Ahhh, these lines are so resplendent with Carol's incredible Spirit, Kiusha...She is all these things & so many more...Thank you for honoring her with this wonderful penning, Poet...Good luck in the contest... Wanda
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