Is it possible that God begged
the pilgrims to write love letters
upon the sheaves; clasp pagan skins
to their breast and believe
in Mother Earth and the Sun above?
Oh, la-ge-si tsu-lv-sa-da u-da-lu-lv
ya-ni-sa ge-se-i wa-di-yi e-la-di
The night swallowed sacred songs
in ship sails and God roar.
Is it possible that cold invades
just beyond the crimson of cross?
Oh, la-ge-si tsu-lv-sa-da u-da-lu-lv
ya-ni-sa ge-se-i wa-di-yi e-la-di
And the winds have lost their warmth
as they clasp pagan skins across plains
where coloured shawls flap no more.
Oh, la-ge-si tsu-lv-sa-da u-da-lu-lv
ya-ni-sa ge-se-i wa-di-yi e-la-di
Mother Earth and the Sun above
reach for the comfort of one another;
write love letters and float them
down~river past ship sails and God roar.
Oh, la-ge-si tsu-lv-sa-da u-da-lu-lv
ya-ni-sa ge-se-i wa-di-yi e-la-di
Beyond the crimson of cross,
grandmother still sings the sacred songs;
wrapped in a shawl against the cold.
She croons forgiveness into night winds
that dance death upon the sheaves.
Author notes
Oh, la-ge-si tsu-lv-sa-da u-da-lu-lv
ya-ni-sa ge-se-i wa-di-yi e-la-di translates roughly from
Cherokee to English as "Oh, field bright before buffalo was put down"
Corrections are happily received! 
In a list
A contest entry
- Repetition by CarolDesjarlais.
1750 points, ended October 7, 11 entries
Bronze trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Comments
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Wow this was really beatiful. It was very well written. I really enjoyed reading this beautiful piece. Thanks for the read and keep up the amazing work!
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I am stunned....how beautiful this is...how it speaks to my soul...how it speaks wisdom and teaches my soul that i knew, it knew.
The repetition in this poem is artfully done...both recognizably and inferentially.
One little tweak, perhaps Mother earth/Mother Earth and Sun that, if you think about it, perhaps, needs the glorified title in this themed poem. Not sure, but, to me, maybe a personal decision, but consider it please.
Bravo, pen friend, whomever you are!



