ANCESTOR SPIRITS CALLING**

The other day u gave me your heart,
it was bleeding in a poem,
beating on drums and
calling to kindred spirits in the night;
describing the pieces torn
ripping u apart.
What’s that u say,
I am who I am,
but who is that?
U say I am who I am
yet this was stolen from me
beaten, ripped
torn away in eyes that
do not see the spirits of the Earth
or the dreary, continuous pain
carried on ripples of time
never fading,
still flowing
after all these years
of shattered life.
And yet u say I am
who I am,
but why?
Why am I only
who I am to you?
Seen only within your eyes
and point of view?
Seen, stolen, defined
by your Eastern skies?
~~~
Don’t I also walk a
path with streaks of red,
drifting, flying on blue sky clouds
carrying me to gentle streams
and sun set dreams?
Why can’t I also follow a path
that sings to me
from forest shadows
beneath a moon of my hue
and left scented
by my ancestor’s sorrows.
A path where the Turtle
speaks of the Earth’s motion
as it surfs a solar wave;
the Eagle drops it feathers
for me to find
so I might write
the Wolf’s howling story;
the Bear rears her cubs
to sing love songs to
the white tailed deer
and Blue Jays guard the moons night time tale
of how humans gave birth
to a world of pain.
~~~
The other day u gave me your heart
it was bleeding in a poem
dripping a life denied
seeking still a gentle setting sun
and gentle waters
not found under Eastern skies.
A heart listening to different
beats all at once
trying to decide who I am
as you say,
but I wonder,
am I?
Isn’t this something
I alone decide?
The drum still beats
the dream of no tears
of ancestor songs
pointing to the path
of I am who I am
knowingly,
willingly!!
~~Aztec Warrior/redzone 3.31.02~~
(written using pen name 'redzone')