Thunder

 

Thunder
 
The sorrowful truth held in hand
is spoken by a thirsty tongue.
Seldom do storms soak this land
which was fertile when we were young.
 
Eagle feathers tell no lies
soaring upon outstretched wings.
The gritty vision held in our eyes
is a sandstorm where heritage sings.
 
Thirsty mother holds back her tear
knowing the depth of this now drying well.
People are facing a free flowing fear
in a dust bowl of a now dying hell.
 
Hoofbeats, like an ancient drum,
have long since passed this way.
A resounding tale told by only some,
and in fewer, these sounds will stay.
 
The changing earth is speaking
as the seers can clearly hear.
Hungry spirits are seeking
healing of all that they hold dear.
 
Thundering hooves are pounding
as awakening hearts recall.
Dark sky's deafening sounding
must return or we all shall fall.

 
 

    
 

    
 

Winner! Of the January/February 2015 round of "N.A. First Peoples' Form Poetry Contest" 


Line count: 24 lines
Form: Traditional Rhyme Scheme ABAB
Written for N.A. First Peoples' Form Poetry Contest  Due 11:59pm WDC time 02/09/15
Picture Prompt:


 

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N.A. First Peoples' Form Poetry Contest  (13+) Native American First Peoples' Monthly Form Poetry Contest - On Summer Hiatus #1646470 by ShelleyA~15 years at WDC