Soon the fish will come.
Soon the seals will dance beneath the ice.
A warmer glory will rise,
Pale against the pastel
Cold blue backdrop.
Softer fingers will reach out,
A gentle touch of life
And fire withheld.
The wasteland empty, frozen,
Will not relent its heart
Give up or give out.
But gone the icy welcome,
A knife cut razor glare
Usurped by lucid reason.
And soon the fish will come.
And soon the seals will dance.
Beautiful.
Thank you. I hope this this one made you think as I’m still not sure what it’s about, and they’re my words! Glad you like it.
I’ve only written a couple Native American poems, based on dreams I had a million years ago–so, in that, I understand what you mean. They might not survive criticism by actual Native Americans, but who knows? There is just something distinctive, a quiet reverence, in their writing–which I felt you captured.
Pleased you think so. This was one where the first line seemed just to appear and wouldn’t go away until I’d done something with it!
Gotta go with it, when that happens.
Love that refrain: “And soon the seals will dance….” All of this loveliness–thank you.
Thank you very much for your comment – I appreciate you taking the time to leave some feedback.
This is very fine
Thank you very much for taking the time to read and comment. I appreciate your feedback.
Love it. I found an Inuit language website.
tusaalanga.ca/welcome-bienvenue
Thank you. I’m pleased that you liked this piece, and I appreciate you taking the time to comment.
Really well-expressed.
Thank you for taking the time to comment!
Lovely piece.
Thank you, I appreciate you reading and leaving your thoughts.
Lovely read 😊
Thank you. I’m pleased that you liked this.
😊 You’re welcome.