Heritage Poems - Poems about Heritage

One day I rode my bicycle out to the countryside, where, the air was still, and trees stood tall in a row. Their scent, a fragrance I had known long ago, made me ponder of our fading culture and worried. Resting on a rock beneath a sprawling tree, I saw a maiden dressed in ancient garb. She captivated me...

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I'm the flicker, the flame, the spark when you can't see, I'm the moonlight in the dark, a mystery. I'm the rustling in the leaves, the breeze and the trees, And maybe the wolf's howl on the wind whispers, "That's me." A long, drawn-out sound, both wild and free. My roots run deep, a Cherokee decree, And when I stomp the...

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They dock at the old ferry landing, drip fern-water and quartz dust, pull shapes from a memory nobody can name. The news calls them pioneers. The city calls for volunteers: one hundred credits a shift, hazard pay if you stay after dark. We line the streets in plastic ponchos, swing buckets of bleach at whatever falls from them— glass teeth, velvet skins, the small, sad...

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Fresh ocean air Oh, take me there! To the place below the hill Three hundred years I hold it dear Ancestors can be felt still For all I've roamed My heart knows home And it cannot get it's fill How does it long! For ancient song And the view from mine own sill A seat of peace My mind's at ease Oh, the terrors a place can kill Soon I'll...

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Beneath the sun's eternal flame, A dynasty rose to eternal fame. The Cholas ruled with might and grace, Their legacy carved in time's embrace. Kaveri's waters sang their song, Of rulers just, and armies strong. Temple carved with sacred art, A culture vast, a noble heart. From Rajraja's mighty reign, To Rajendra's seas where power gained. Their ships sailed forth, the oceans bowed, To the Chola's...

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Tell me Can a tree without roots Ever bear fruit? Tell me Can a ship without sails Ever make haste in the boundless sea? Death creeps, cloying Knotted garters frayed Under the sea the sirens wail Forgotten, ignored But for the ones who live on The feet do drag on Swollen, septic, deeply forlorn For those of us who are aware Who live in a world; awake Be sure to...

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Something old, something new! I rebirth beyond what my roots eschew. I ascend from my descendant's group shadow, to rise above and beyond what they bestow. I cannot shed their genes and heritage. While I respect my upbringing and parentage. I rise above the limits of pedigree, to shred the trammel bounds of mediocrity. So here I stand both old and new. Living...

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(May we hear and breathe the words of our indigenous ancestors And may we all be so lucky as to have an indigenous future) Life is a beautiful word. Oh Great Spirit As we walk across the Earth Teach us Help us find Peace Dignity Respect The courage and strength to be brave Wisdom and truth Kindness Honesty Humility We look to you for love Compassion and honor So we can make a...

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As I gaze upon the splendor of the beach: yellow, soft and resplendent and compliant. I realize that it is a debris field of bones. Of shattered shells devoid of sound-of-sea-echoes. Of bit of crabs, seaweeds and bones of fishes ground to dust, all gathered into an amorphous tell-tale pile. It's congealed when wet, soft and flowing when dry. This boneyard...

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My_poem and let me not be lost I am the greatest of the Mabulas, the thobola seanamarena, the people of the boy Mogoru diobejana, who say the king's sword should try to stab, they say the spear to stab the brother Matheba a diopong. They say home is home to the bird of prey. They say they are...

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#My_African_heritage In my ears, I hear a drum beat, the sound points my listening ear to Congo, its effects echoing with my heart beat, although I'm taking a walk, this beat want me to sit down and just listen to Africa speaking. While in my caught up thoughts, lifting my head to see clear the...

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Together, we stand; divided, we fall. Whisky in our veins & Fire in our hearts. Names of our fallen, written in the stars. Pipers play as the wind blows through the heather on the hill. Birthplace of kin, the hand of warriors extended. The thistle sways in the highland breeze, symbolising strength & solidarity. The best you have...

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A SONG THAT WILL ONLY MAKE SENSE TO EAST COASTERS! (CANADA) A heritage that we all share, our blood is maritime. We thrill to see the Bluenose, her picture on a dime. Emotion for an ocean, gray...

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wooden spoon worn smooth calloused hands’ enduring tool sleeps in a drawer...

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In Battery Point, two centuries stayed Settlers’ cottage, compact, sandstone stoic Paired attic windows see civility made From grim past pioneering treachery awoke Piston motion push n pull combustion ...

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