Ghost Of A Blue World
I dreamed I was flying
over the ghost of blue world past.
The buffalo ran before me,
thundering through the plains.
And I heard a wail in the wind
like a thousand voices whispering,
spreading rumors of change.
And all nations were gathered
on burial grounds of man,
singing, singing, singing.
I dreamed I was flying
over the ghost of blue world present.
The people ran before me
through bloody fields of war.
And I heard a sobbing in the wind
like a million demons howling,
drumming the guns of hate.
And all mothers gathered
on soldiers' mourning ground,
weeping, weeping, weeping
I dreamed I was flying
over the ghost of blue world future.
Only shadows ran before me
through dry and quiet plains.
And I heard a small wind mewing
like a newborn baby's breath,
dying in the darkness of night.
And all the ghosts were kneeling
on this charred and battered land,
silence, silence, silence
© Shirley Alexander
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very profound...and very haunting...amazing work.