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sheila-hackettPoems
**Distant drumming of the thunder, Calls my soul back to mother earth. Tiredness overwhelms me, I have lived my worth. My old feathers are worn, My war paint faded and cracked. My mount, is old and beaten, The old ways are not coming back. The eagle flies in preparation, For my flight to the land of shadows. I see my path before me, My life's journey only borrowed. The rain cleanses mother earth, Washing away the stain. The years of damage man has done, Has become a weight of pain. Mother earth is now calling me home, To join my soul with hers. I will live no more forever, And help replenish the earth. Sheila.**
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Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 10:46 AM UTC
Drumming Of The Thunder.
**Distant drumming of the thunder, Calls my soul back to mother earth. Tiredness overwhelms me, I have lived my worth. My old feathers are worn, My war paint faded and cracked. My mount, is old and beaten, The old ways are not coming back. The eagle flies in preparation, For my flight to the land of shadows. I see my path before me, My life's journey only borrowed. The rain cleanses mother earth, Washing away the stain. The years of damage man has done, Has become a weight of pain. Mother earth is now calling me home, To join my soul with hers. I will live no more forever, And help replenish the earth. Sheila.**
sheila-hackett
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sheila-hackett
Dec 7, 2014
Dec 7, 2014 at 10:46 AM UTC
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