This beauty called forth, speaking
Native tongues, Truth, the trees insist
On Truth as only the Ancient Peoples
Speak it; remember us!
The hewn wood cries, remember us!
The Native beauty speaks, no tear falling
From her winsome eye; the land raped,
The People quelled, but in her red-blood
Heart, hope resides
Empowered, poet, prophet
A smile is her answer to the questions
Will Truth survive? Will Love abide?
Indeed, there is no other way
Sigh not, strong woman in the wood
You are not alone, nor are the trees
The Truth cannot be burned away
Though shadows cast upon their
Inner selves may seem to tell
A different tale.
© 9 February 2015
Suzy Jacobson Cherry
|Poet Elaine Gee Shadowed Upon the Wood|
(Used with Permission)