The Wind Whisper

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