Monday, June 22, 2009

Poems about the Plains -

Poems from the road.....
I wrote the first one in the 1980's after driving towards Eagle Butte on Hwy 212. This is where you can enjoy the plains in all of its glory. Espically in the spring and there has been a lot of rain and the grasses have grown tall. It looks like a green sea. I love this time of year and want to be there on driving. What is so great is the beauty and the fact that I'm driving towards a meeting with family. What a wonderful sence of freedom can find you.

The second was also written about the same place when I observed the hawks.

Prairie Wind



Wind across the prairie,
blowing, intertwining,
touching everything
in its breath

caressing each blade of grass
as it passes whispering to the flowers
weaving through the branches

moving,
ever moving
flowing over all

creating the beautiful music
for the dancing of the grasses
green and green and green some more

it awakes me to my reality
reminds me of my tomorrows

my thoughts are as the wind
the wind as it is
the substance of the high plains
the strength of the land

my dreams are as the wind
cascading across the night
seeping into my sleep

caressing my thoughts
blowing the past into my memory
whispering about the future

the wind ever moving
ever changing
ice in winter
fire in summer

the wind the music
of the high plains
it makes the land sing

I know the song it is written in my heart
and the heart of my people
hear it softly sing

it whispers

listen to the whisper
it tells of our loved ones

who heard its voice
and have gone on
to walk upon the clouds

hear its mournful cry
crying for our people

it tells of places and
old forgotten names
names that still call out
the existence of our land

wind you are the freedom
that was stolen long ago
you blow it in our faces
whisper it in our dreams

the freedom that is still there
if we want to take it
reach out and grasp it

let our hearts flow
let us join our brothers
as they fly using the wind
to roam across the sky

sky and earth joined together
by the breath of our creator
who blows his blessing upon us

the wind
the beautiful wind
blowing across forever


Mary Lee Johns

Hawk



I fly on Hawk wings caught up
on strong currents across this mighty land.

Looking down my heart grows heavy
I see black ribbons that slash the earth.

I search for my strong black brother he is gone.
Only small herds of his children are left
In prisons of green pastures.

I search for and listen for the howl of my wise
gray brother and hear his song no more.

I search for my red brother and find him huddled
in lost dreams and hovels of loneliness.

The land is lonely for her children
who once fed upon her bosom and bounty.

Only feeble, weak little creatures are left,
their hearts and spirits are strange and sorrowful.

They do not know the language of our songs.

The strong and powerful who knew the songs of our land
have been cast aside driven out by strangers.

My wings grow weary in my search. I find only emptiness
the wind cries for our losses and I am alone.

No comments:

Post a Comment