In the deep cool recesses,
The forest gives voice.
The whispers of the wind,
Moves through the prairie grass.
The tall trees bend,
To hear the Earth Mother,
Talk to her children.
Praise to the spirits,
Of Earth, Wind, Fire and Water.
And to the inner circle,
Of the sweat lodge.
As we join our spirit to the earth.
We praise the Earth Mother,
With the pounding of drums,
Leaping towards the sky in dance.
Asking Father sky,
To bring forth the seeds,
From her womb.
As we perform,
The rites of fertility.
We are the keepers of the circle,
Of births and deaths,
As hope burns in the fires,
Of eternal flames.
New hope rises from the ashes.
We are the guardians,
Protectors of the Earth,
Why do we destroy her.
That which was give,
Into our keeping.
Author notes
Written October 10th, 2004
What did you think
Comments
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This poetry has a spirit that moves. It has sense of rhythm that grows moment by moment. It drew me into the vision itself, like some ethereal visitor, an observer.
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This was a crisp new piece that made me smile reading it...You had a beautiful choice of words and you put them all together to make a magnificent poem! Very well done! The background was indeed a perfect match for them poem as commented above. The ending was also the perfect ending....could not have ended it any better than you did.
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Don't change a word
I think this is one of the best poems you have written for a long time. The background fits the mood of the poem so well. Just an overall wonderful piece that I see more and more with each read. -
Ilove how this starts as a whisper and progresses through the incantation to the life of the dance and the rhythm of the drums- also the beauty of your truth. Thank you for sharing this.
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