Followers

Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Vision Quest


She walks along the hillside
And can feel the tribal drums
Pounding rhythms through her veins
As the next day’s morning comes.

The mournful North Dakota wind
Still holds the ancient chants.
She sees the tribe meet by the fire
To dance the sacred dance.

She can’t forget her heritage,
The world she’s never known,
How ancestors carved out their lives
From rock and wood and bone.

She knows she is a seer.
She envisions futures past.
She sees her bloodline rise and fall
And fears she’ll be the last.

She does not know her destiny,
Her path is unrevealed.
There is no one to light her way
And fate’s dark lips are sealed.

She walks along the hillside
And awaits a brighter day,
A woman searching for a home
And time that passed away.

Published in  Poet‘s Place in “The Bugle”  vol. 4 number 4 - Jan. 28, 2011.

5 comments:

Other Mary said...

Oh, great rhythm here, almost like the drumming through her veins. Also, good repetition, with slight change in the opening and closing stanzas. It echoes the idea of her history, with the uncertainty of it continuing.

Abin Chakraborty said...

love the 'last of the mohicans' feel of the poem.this is true for aborigines everywhere.

booguloo said...

I enjoyed this very much!

Rosemary Nissen-Wade said...

I love the ballad structure you've used, perfect for this story. A memorable poem!

Kim Nelson said...

This lyrical piece evokes familiar images and conjures new meaning and understanding. You've woven the historical and emotional quite beautifully.