The Wind Whisper

Poet's Notes

(Show)

Become a Premium Member and post notes and photos about your poem like Cherl Dunn.

I’m the whispering voice of legacies long sense past, the overseer
Of generations traveling with broken wings of tribal tradition,
A vanquished chieftain, whom sheds his sacred feathers, as tears
Shame upon the white man’s winds of manifest destiny.
Clarity’s shattered warrior languishing within a river of
Crimson shoals, drowning beneath salvations suffering,
Wounded left at bending knees of mercy, abandon, with
Our archers crushed bow, and idle arrows of sorrow, upon
The battle field of ignorance and indifference.
Kindred leaves of humanities autumn, 
Left torn and tossed asunder,
Tatters remnants, drifting loosely on the breeze
 Of progress,
Built upon the ash pile of a nation’s people.
Many life flames flicker at the sacred fire beyond,
Hear the drumming’s roar; it is the beating heart,
The bleeding soul, crying out for revenge, but
Driven deeply is the spear of destiny, piercing
The righteous spirit, shattering it into a million
 Pieces, that descends as raindrops of regret.
Treaties promises melt away as paper confetti,
Burnt embers offerings left as crisp fiery spray,
Floating in the deadened chill of winter’s forth
Coming.
Beneath the singed blankets of tribal markings,
Lie huddled the feeble of starvation, those whom
Desire to feed from the table of their ancient culture,
But these eloping breasts are drained dry.
Behold these starving cannot remember the flavor
Of her milks taste, nor the fragrance of her natural
 Perfume, for they are the lost tribe of humanity,
People of the desert prairie, blown apart by the 
Scorching winds of fate.
I’m the whispering voice of legacies long sense past, the overseer
Of generations traveling with broken wings of tribal tradition,
A vanquished chieftain, whom sheds his sacred feathers, as tears
Shame upon the white man’s winds of manifest destiny.
Harken my children and listen, for wind whisper walks amongst
You, and I’ll mend the bow, with prides honor, in faith’s devotion,
The ancient warrior shall ride again, against the flames of our
Sacred fire, and thus the weeping woman shall cry no more.

BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Vera Duggan

Date: 3/17/2015 12:08:00 AM

Once again my dear friend, a masterpiece, what more can I say, the pictures are nice but myself I prefer poems without pictures, simple reason being is I think it takes all the thought away from the poem, I tend to concentrate on the pictures more than the poem, maybe just one picture which does attain to the poem, anyway excellent take care my friend..........Vera.............

Paul Callus

Date: 2/9/2015 4:13:00 PM

A lovely and powerful poem that makes us painfully aware of the tribes that have been deprived of their homes and lands. But whatever happens, the blood of courageous braves will forever flow through their veins. // paul

Kelly Deschler

Date: 2/9/2015 12:20:00 PM

There is something so intriguing about your work that always draws me right in and holds my attention to the very last line... This is another amazing piece of poetry from your pen. Really great work, my friend!