Death of a Shaman He was the shadow caster he was the spirit master He sang the earth and dreamed the day he showed the people on their way He knew the wolf and all the birds He called the deer with their own words He walked with sun and stars and moon He played his music like the lonely loon Then the blind ones came to dwell To take and own and buy and sell They talked of god but could not see His presence in wood and lea* They could not hear the forest speak Never laughed with the meltwater creek Nor sang a song to the newborn fawn Their world was dead, the magic gone The blind ones moved on all the land Took all they saw with a greedy hand The people sick, they often fled But more than sometimes screamed and bled And he, the last, went into the hills And dreamed of all the people's ills He saw all nations at war and dying And in their midst stood Nature crying He, the master, then met his death He breathed his final rasping breath And with a promise, his spirit flew To someday return, to make the earth new - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - *lea: a field or meadow comments and/or critique welcome
THAT WAS AWESOME!! That's like the perfect summary of European oppresion of the Native Americans Well done!
THAT WAS AWESOME!! That's like the perfect summary of European oppresion of the Native Americans Well done!
that was fantastic. pontiac was my great great great grandfather so i really appreciated this. kudos for you.
Awesome! Very strong and polished. Loved the subtle language elements & how the close arcs to a impending rebirth.
excellent poem. It flowed so well, and spoke the truth. I liked the ending too, kind of left it off with a hopeful note.
