This is a man who cuts wood, lays hearths,
travels to Incan adoritories, examines graves.
He is prepared NOT to wait before he strides out
to spirit, with arms wide open
and a prayer of gratitude on his lips.
He has rescued infants left out in the cold,
wrapped them in his poetry, warmed them
with the food of his language, and rocked them
in leafy nests made of feathery feelings
that ensure their safekeeping.
He knows whey of snow, sift of sand,
and moon’s watery lace are speaking
in the voice of God, and he decodes them
for mere mortals to partake in feasts
at his table by the window, on porch,
that faces Old Man of the Mountain.
He knows words woven in spiders’ webs,
lay of hand of land on stones, and feel of lip
to flesh of those who have flung themselves
of creative cliffs in order to have their say.
Ah, Kaibab, you have lit my soul
with flames of your hope, feathers of faith,
and your stoop to touch a broken egg
in Universe’s nest and have given it a name
before it dust to dust returns.
I know your name, it is almost at tip of tongue
but too sacred to say, mystic, music man, whisperer
to horses, hem seeker, water-carrier,
one with a dusty cowboy hat that chooses
to make creation speak so we might know
what sounds God makes when he is pleased.
Here, here are my signposts that I gave away
to you who could remake the map
to doorstep of your kind of heaven.
Author notes
I am probably one of his most needy recipients of his wise works, his way of loving the world so fully that it blooms for him, his inspiration that tugs me along like a child following a new leader to a good way of looking at the world. I am proud to be of the tribe of Kaibab. I lay all my gold at his feet.
In a list
A contest entry
- Help Kaibab Celebrate!!! by poet2angels.
800 points, ended September 20, 2007, 8 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
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This has me in tears as I so understand what you mean when you speak of following one with such knowledge, talent and most of all , sporit. I have learned much from him and his poetry and I see that you have as well...This is such a wonderful tribute...
TY for joining in the celebration, my pen friend...
Lynda
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Wow ...
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I am lost for words to describe the feelings and emotions reading this poem had created in me. I too is glad that you are from your tribe, so I can read the the poetry of a true poet... And I wish you the best in the contest which you should end up with the gold for this...
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WOW! You've outdone yourself!! and that is saying a mouthful. Such beautiful words for a beautiful friend. Filled with compassion and truly heartfelt! Ya had me tingling with enthusiasm and joy, to know that such feelings are alive and well in this world...
"I know your name, it is almost at tip of tongue
but too sacred to say, mystic, music man, whisperer
to horses, hem seeker, water-carrier,
one with a dusty cowboy hat that chooses
to make creation speak so we might know
what sounds God makes when he is pleased."
That left me speechless, M'Lady!
~ Nicholas
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I have come to know, no better friend
than friend in pen
to seek those secrets
Nature bares in simple glance,
training words, flowing inken rivers,
to quiver life, forever abundant.
Here we transcend,
what world believes impossible,
touching intimacy,
in fabled fingers
where eye meets eye
in the blindness of prefection.
You are such an ancient goddess,
earthen hands of rocks and feathers,
paint soul in adoration,
for just a wave of inspiration.
I have never been more honored, Carol...thanks so much...
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