Displeased Spirit
at this late hour tonight he was born
eight years ago, he was told;
the spirits of the winds, the waters and
the mountains were pleased,
except for one who wasn't, and for no reason
other than he was born at all;
for over seven years the oldest man of the clan
secretly observed
the ritual of the blood, begging
the displeased one to spare the child;
the oldest has passed away, gone with
the knowledge of the secret rite;
so now, as an owl hoots nearby, the boy swings
his arm backwards
and with all his tender strength and naive faith,
hurls a chicken's egg
against the formidable wall of ink-black darkness
of the forest night !
Copyright © Romeo Naces | Year Posted 2007
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