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Poem
Hear the whispering voices of our tribal ancestors,
Echoing against the rough rock skin of Chacoan Canyon,
Telling the outsider white devils, that this is sacred ground,
Do not dare to tread here, for your own salvation's sake,
Lies at risk.
Can't these intruders hear, the rattling bones of the dead,
Beating against the native drums, calling forth the guardians
Whom protect these revered mountains, and ancient?
Forgotten ruins.
It's a presence of malevolence, given off by shadow stalkers,
Whom elude detection, spiritual chameleons these the unseen
And the unheard.
At dusk's twilight hour, does blood's mountain so flicker
Crimson red, for within dwells the beast, whom feast upon
The forsaken, those who have desecrated the purity
Of this sacred tribal land.
Weeping women of generations plead for mercies
Leniency, but the creature knows only basic instincts
Need for survival, and this is his native hunting grounds
Territory.
Can you not feel its eyes watching you from above?
Does not the hair stand up straight on the back of
Your neck, flee out-lander to a different venues location,
Before it is too late.
No medicine man's enchantment, or incantation's spell,
Can save thee, the sacred right's ritual is older than the
Desert sands that blow against these rock canyon walls.
In this arid arena the fallen are taken prisoner, by a dark
Phantom gladiator, who seemly is made of vaporous mist.
But the chieftain elders praise his existence, for he is a
Guardians sent by the power of the Great Spirit,
To protect and guard this land of native wonder.
Many thrill seekers come here to behold nature
In its raw state of brilliance, and few leave
Unscathed, for they have been touched by
The presence of the supernatural.
In chacoan Canyon, where the Colorado River
Still runs wild and free.
A killer crouches in a stance's freeze, waiting
For his next meal to step forth onto his sacred
Feeding grounds, welcome tourist, unto the ritual
Bloody feast.
The beast does smile, with fiendish delight, come'
Any further my friend, the creature speaks, and
You belong to me for all eternity.
 
 BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
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