Lenape
Lightning,
And then a loud roar...
A lions mouth
Of thunder
Pushed
The men
Adorned in breechcloud and
Necklaces of shells
Straight down the river
As the murky water
Of the Delaware
Rippled in the downpour
Yet they kept going,
Gathering thoughts of triumph
Of the next camp
Ruled
By a natural law
And an ancient faith
Of living close to the soil
As the canoes
Made of chestnut
Held sturdy as steel
And after the rain
A low hum of mosquitoes
Broke the silence
Of hot august air,
Yet the Lenape
Glanced softly
At a new shore
Knowing that
The great sorrow of moving
Only stretched their hearts wider
Into a vibrant cascade of deeper roots.
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