I have travelled many seasons
Lived many miles
Called by many names
Never knowing my self
On the mystic panes of northern waters
I see the Sky Dancers
Their movements cold in darkness
Shaken by Life, torn by Light
From the eternal woods of no name
Hides spirits we shudder
Sentinels born of seed given to seed
Embrace our children beneath them
Onto a vast plain, an openness forever
The sun lazy in its journey
Crawls the sky to its cradle
Blanketed by red clouds, it soon sleeps
Blackness now, beckons as a friend
Moulded by decay, thoughts gone wrong
I visit denizens, unknown spirits
Share visions of false delight
Soul soothed by the sun awakened
I bathe my mind in colours risen
Eyes open I see my thoughts
Ears open, words unspoken I hear my Fathers
Your name lost in travels
Foreign tongues called you Cree
Spirits of the sky, woods, land and waters
Know you as friend blessed as kin
Who Am I? You ask
You are Nehiyawak the “exact People”
Who have roamed generations forgotten
Becoming you by lives lived, families gone.
Nehiyawak – Nay-he-yuh-wak
Who Am I
Vsion of a People’s path through time and place.
Jen Whyte, 9 months ago
Another wonderful word picture … we are always wondering who we are and where we came from!
Symmetry44, 9 months ago
Absolutely brilliant!
Arnold Isbister, 9 months ago
thank you both…..
Roger Sampson, 8 months ago
Oh so good my friend. Stories of heritage.
How proud the elders must be of you.
Rog
Arnold Isbister, 8 months ago
Thanks Rog, this was for curriculum ‘text’. I had never done this but they asked so I tried. Previously I did short stories for kids. Maybe i will put one down for those interested. Not tonight though, gotta have a beer while I can; nothing scheduled for 2 days :-) and my girl is sleeping over with friends.
madvlad, 5 months ago
you are a wonderful seeker, sir, your poems, i have now read them all, show,you have stoped and taken the time , for your inward voyage, and have found, lines of feelings that come to you on words,which always seem to weak, to really say how we feel, or how we want to see beyond the vale of this place we are visting, but keep, you lines coming, they are your vent, to the confusiing picture we see around us- all the hate and love, with too much of the former and not enough of the latter, your a good soul, it seems, if you can take this mystery lightly and enjoy all the places of rest, that give your senses joys, well rest and drink in, the breath that substains you and your loves
Arnold Isbister, 5 months ago
that is a great compliment Vlad and I thank you sincerely; keep painting Vlad !