Aztec Warrior

Aztec Warrior Jun 2015

POEM 11

Namaste morning.
What is life if not -
the aroma of Hyacinths in the Spring;
two squirrels playing tag under the Oak tree;
the howl of the wolf to its lover
on a moonlit night;
the imagination of your breath on my neck
as I write this poem;
and the shy twinkle in your eyes
as I turn around.
Namaste morning

Aztec Warrior 6.15.15

Aztec Warrior Jun 2015

POEM 10

POEM 10

I remember walking the Trail of Tears
wrapped in diseased laced blankets
under small pox filled nights.
I witnessed the first ‘Holocaust’
of middle passage genocide
and untold body count
of African lives.
All of this is the moral fabric
of today’s American values.

I saw a sticker the other day,
as I walked my small town
and it has given me some hope.
“Stop Thinking Like Americans
Start Thinking About Humanity.”
It was posted on a street light,
right there on Main Street.

And I thought,
if this view point can be found here
in Small town USA,
think of what might happen
if it were also found
in all the big cities!?

Maybe we still can find our humanity.

Aztec Warrior 6.13.15

Aztec Warrior Jun 2015

POEM 9

As Aztec Warrior,
I spirit walk as the Grey Wolf.
Roam North in the shadows
until I reach our tall brothers.
Standing proudly they
willfully share their long ago wisdom
to all who pass by.

“We were here
when your “People”
first came here
heading South into barren lands
and harsh sun.
It is good to see you have survived
and return in your true form.”

“But you must return soon
and warn all you see
there is great danger on its way.
A strange people will come
with shinny blades
and magic sticks
to conquer and destroy
our natural ways.
As they spread
over all the lands,
even our Mother
will be defiled,
***** by their evil superstitions.
It will be up to those
with true hearts,
with love of beauty
and courage to fight
to make the Earth right.
Go back Aztec Warrior,
tell your people what you have heard
from your Great, Great
Grandfather, the Sequoia trees.”

I awoke in human form,
the vision fresh in my mind.
As I look around,
stand on these concrete streets,
I wonder loudly,
Am I too late?

Aztec Warrior 6.13.15

Aztec Warrior Jun 2015

POEM 8

Running playfully with the sun,
the moon follows
from Eastern skies.
I always enjoy these twilight hours,
listening to the day’s stories
of buffalo thundering the plains
for sweet alfalfa grass;
of hearing Chickadees love songs
to yellow daffodils.
But it is at dusk
I turn into the Grey Wolf
and howl lullabies
at the full moon.

Aztec Warrior 6.13.15

Aztec Warrior Jun 2015

POEM 7

POEM 7

The Quetzal dive bombed
the playful Leopard,
who only wanted to bask
in her sun
while listening to the
jungle’s waterfall symphonic
memories of Blue Orchid,
aromatic visions.

He meant her no harm.

Aztec Warrior 6.13.15

Aztec Warrior Jun 2015

POEM 6

Sometimes it’s the absence of words
that keeps me awake at night.
But lately,
it’s their abundance;
their constant chattering
that haunts and taunts.
Too many words.
But the worst of it-
no matter how I try to arrange them,
they only make non-sense.
Verbal garbage, that
long ago began to rot.

Aztec Warrior 6.13.15

Aztec Warrior Jun 2015

POEM 5

The Dream Weaver
catches each of your dreams,
holds them gently,
keeps them safe
from calloused hands and demons
who want to steal away all hope.

I take your dreams,
savor their succulent flavors;
lick their sweet contours,
soft peaks, and lush valleys.
Sated with your liquid wonders,
I turn these dreams into poetry
to be floated on the Sea of Longing.

Aztec Warrior 6.13.15

https://youtu.be/0QIvW20IFUE