The Thunder-Spirit Night time--the orange Clouds withhold oncoming rain; Afar the thunder Lingers to oblivion: Restless are the ways That fulfill unspoken dreams Their lives amongst us, As time that summons passing As a startled bird To wake us in the moonlight Of a winter sleep. Douglas Thornton
Here are the opening lines of a poem entitled: Wapiniwiktha; The Prophet's Exile--published in Woodland Poems.
There is a force connects one to the end
Of all things, that before the end
We may learn of it, and to us define
Of beauty, love, philosophy;
To make of intelligence more than what
It is—divine—and by that broad
Effort leave a trace upon the present
Of which all must experience:
The loss thereof; a loss that we may count
As meaningless until it fools
The heart of a greater man; the repute
Wherewith, from his maternal tribe
Outcast, the prophet Wapiniwiktha
Was lately stung.
Douglas Thornton
Comments
Post a Comment