The Indian's Lamentation: Or A Tribute To John Trudell's Work. Poem by moe apu

We felt it, but we ignored
The wind as it blew: dry? Yes.Cold?
Perish the thought! Still we felt it.
We saw it. In the coif of a bison's coat
Dancing in a forced ritual to an invisible master.
We saw it. In the lone leaf. The one
Caught by Nature's Messenger
And blown into our wretched stoked fire.
We saw it and we knew it but we ignored it.

Now we remember times we ignored,
When you looked around and saw
Upturned, frightened faces
Seeking answers that none wants to hear
And the color of their eyes was fear
Once a hundred? A million? A myriad!
But now I sit alone. By my self by the shore
Waiting for Nature's Messenger.
Waiting for Nature's Messenger.

© Paul Mburu Watex 2016. All Rights Reserved.