Email Poem

Your IP Address: 3.135.190.40
Your Email Address:
To Email Address:
Subject
Personal Note:
Poem Title:
Poem
As dusk settled to star-filled night, they finally came.
Amongst the burning huts, he knelt before the two Gods,
their bright white skin flickering red anger within the light of the fire.
One stood with turtle shell gleaming silver against the darkening sky,
the other, in white covering, holding a stick the shape of a jade dagger.
It hung from his neck with a long strip of cloth.
It did not look sharp, so,
he was unsure whether it was a weapon or talisman,
but the God kept holding it, whispering to it
and pressing his lips against it.
Likely a talisman he decided.

He dare not speak to them.
He waited.
First, the taller one, they were both tall,
(in fact, all of the Gods he had seen seemed tall compared to his people)
uttered nonsense to him in his godly speech.
He looked up and quickly shrugged his shoulders
and shook his head not knowing how else to respond.
The God raised his voice, deep and mellow,
glaring into his eyes before kicking him to the ground.

As he rose back to his knees, he heard the Gods speaking to each other.
He glanced up to see the one emerging from his turtle shell
holding his thunder maker pointing at him.
This excited him.
Perhaps he would help him to move into the world of the Gods
as he had with the other villagers.
He pictured the face of his father standing beside him
as one of the thunder sticks spewed forth its clouds and lightning
and struck his father.
His father gasped as he fell to the ground clutching his chest,
He grabbed the man's hand and heard his father whisper,
"I will see you soon in the realm of the Gods
where we will live forever,"
and reaching up he said,
"thank you, God," several times before leaving this world.

He had hoped to be as brave as his father
but found only fear inside.
As he watched the god feed his thunder stick
he jumped to his feet and ran,
hiding in a hut beneath the day's harvest of corn
where the communal gold was kept.
He was the son of the goldsmith of his village
who fashioned all of the ceremonial headdresses
and jewelry for the local officials and priests.
Lying there thinking, he wondered about the brutality
he had witnessed.
The burning of the village and the taking
of some of the women and children.
Of course, this was no more brutal
than was the chieftain during the sacrificial ceremonies,
telling the villagers that the ones sacrificed
would join the Gods for eternity,
then cutting open their chests and removing their beating hearts.
He was always confused by this
because those sacrificed were only from rival clans.
Why did he not sacrifice people from the village for such a high honor?
Were they not worthy to spend eternity with the Gods?

His father insisted that these creatures were Gods
and had come to their world to gather the people
to take them to the next life.
When he questioned this, his father admonished him saying,"
"Look how they emerge from their turtle shells.
They must be corn gods, the creators of our world
and of us.
What need do we have for huts in our new life?"
The burning of the village he believed was to lesson
the reluctance of some of the villagers to move into their new lives.
They did not put up a struggle.
It is true.
They did indeed wear what seemed to be turtle shells
covering their chests and some covering their
arms and legs with shells upon their heads.
He had never seen turtle shells that looked like these.
They were as shiny as the ceremonial necklaces made by his father.
They must be Gods!


03/22/2021

Continued in Maya 2
CAPTCHA Preview
Type the characters you see in the picture
Required