Best Many Moons Poems
The ancient prophecy foretold
so very long ago ...
has finally arrived
Coming swiftly on eagle wings
The howling wind carries piercing night cries,
as open iron claws fall
from the mountain sky
And the slumber days, shown many moons ago,
has awakened death — cursed faces
carved on the fallen totem poles
So many, many moons ago,
my careless people were told
by the Almighty Spirit
not to pray to their vain wooden idols,
whom they worshiped in the forest groves
A flood of tears would one day wash upon the shores,
and bathe my people in the ashes
of their burnt fallen totem poles
Our unheeded shamans foretold
of a white pestilence cleansing of the land,
and our idol hearts would be broken
Visions of rivers of blood
from a snow-capped mountain would flow
As foretold ... so many moons ago
We should not have slaughtered the innocent
of our enemies, whom we last fought ...
giving them no mercy shown
Now our wooden sins have revisited us,
with the steady waves of pale crested sails,
seen upon the new moon horizon shores
This changing color of the evergreen leaves
and red clay soil
was foreseen so many moons ago
And the fate of the ebony mane buffalo
is the spirit path we now weepingly follow
Yes, the fall of my prideful people was foretold,
so many moons ago
And I cover my bowed chieftain head
with the ashes of the toppled totem poles
Echo of distant cries,
quadruped steps deepening into dusk—
wind folding the earth’s breath.
Craftsman of the spider web,
seas of lightning possessing the sky.
Guardian of the other side,
conceiver of comings and goings,
I will meet you soon—
after the waning of many moons,
God-willing—I will meet you soon!
Til then
you will wait—
til the fateful rain washes the earth,
til the sky weeps every secret.
You will wait
as the mountain lion sleeplessly
soaks up the storms to
keep her last babe dry.
Before ten thousand moons passed by
reigned Mother Earth and Sacred Sky.
Their spirits whispered on the breeze,
from mountain streams to deepest seas.
Nomadic souls rode ne’er to die
before ten thousand moons passed by
hunting bison, both proud and strong,
with lips chanting ancestral songs.
Each blessing rained from clouds of truth
of spirits taught in gleaming youth.
Before ten thousand moons passed by,
in native tongue, soared elder’s cry.
Across the plains, they chased a dream,
like wild horses in warm sun beams.
Their restless souls praised earth and sky
before ten thousand moons passed by.
written 2/12/17
In our wigwams we hear tom-toms
Like hearts beating out a greeting;
Seasons in tune with thirteen moons.
In the moon of red grass.
Let the white man come.
There is room enough for all.
In the moon of green grass.
Let the white man come.
There is grass enough for all.
In the moon when ponies shed.
Let the white man come.
There are ponies enough for all.
In the moon of strawberries.
Let the white man come.
There are berries enough for all.
In the moon when lilies bloom.
Let the white man come.
There are blooms enough for all.
In the hot moon, we will sweat.
Let the white man come.
There is heat enough for all.
In the moon of wild rice.
Let the white man come.
There are bowls enough for all.
In the moon of falling leaves.
Let the white man come.
There are leaves enough for all.
In the moon of rutting deer.
Let the white man come.
There are deer enough for all.
In the moon when deer shed horns.
Let the white man come.
There are horns enough for all.
It is the hard moon of strong cold.
Let the white man come.
There are lodges enough for all.
In the moon when wolf packs run.
Let the white man come.
There are more than enough for all.
In the moon of sore eyes.
Let the white man come.
There will be enough for all.
The prairie wind is blowing chill,
Wildly waving through the grass,
Erasing signs of Indian trails.
In the moons of the white man,
Strong hearts seek Indians return.
Is there room enough for all?
Will our wigwams hear the tom-toms
Like hearts beating out a greeting;
Seasons in tune with thirteen moons?
rock radio tunes
white walled treads and baby moons…
laughing like buffoons
Thinking about us and thinking back to the day we met,
Thinking about current circumstances, it was a planned bet.
The cards were lain out long ago, before we had any ache,
The chips were already locked in, no one else could partake.
Destiny locked us in together. Welded the door and such,
It was comforting, to have met someone who offered a crutch.
I was broken at that moment. My heart and head were screaming.
Yet alas, there you appeared like smoke from thin air, your attitude bright and beaming.
I hesitated, but stayed regardless of my ponders, all for thee.
Everyone thought I was insane, and that includes even me.
Our thoughts and minds blended together amazingly.
Our hearts and souls resonated together wholeheartedly.
Suddenly, out from the random and distant blue,
We started arguing and fighting, and I feel guilty for things I did towards you.
We took a break, tried to separate, but fate hadnt forgotten our entwinement.
For it forced us back, yet something seemed to lack, and I wonder if you felt confinement.
In this current moment, I ponder this all.
Take account to how we shall rise, and where we shall fall.
Concluding for the moment, not the final decision, please take note.
Is it time for atonement? Has our destiny risen to its final vote?
Maybe I shouldn't ponder this, for you know my current standing.
Should I leave for a while? Or is my brain misunderstanding?
Many Moons
Many moons have affected my way of life
From conflicts to divine meetings
To when I choose to say goodbye
I’m always pulled in the direction of what seems most right
When listening to the many moons
And the thousand faces she assumes