THE FOREST GREEN: Broken Spirit    
 Broken Spirit
picture Monday, December 6th 2004, by Marissa A Spencer

I used to meet up with people on the audiochat program called MPlayer. There were rooms with Native Americans. One evening and older gentleman and I were the only ones left in the room. He asked me if he could recite a poem to me. I said, sure, thinking he was just going to read it. I was delighted when he put some NA flute in the background.
I was crying by the time he was done. It is a powerful poem, unfortunately the author is unknown. If any of those reading this know who wrote it, please let me know.

Broken Spirit

Is my spirit broken?
No child.
Can you still soar with the eagles high in the blue sky?
Can you still tread on a blanket of new fallen snow?
Can you hear the water murmuring in the mountain stream?

Can you feel a quickening in your heart at the first rumble of Thunder?
Do your eyes widen at a streak of bright lightning?
Does your hand reach to feel the first drop of warm rain from a summer shower and
Do you yearn to walk in the tender grass through the morning dew?

On a moonlit night do you stand and look up and feel as though someone is looking back at you?
Do you watch the sun until every last pink and purple cloud is completely gone into darkness?
Do you wait for the sound of the lonesome Owl speaking in the night?
And do you watch the small creatures of the earth with awe and look for them each time you go into the forest?
And do you find joy in the laughter of a child?

No Child
Your spirit is not broken
Only grow'n

Unknown April, 99





6 Dec 2004 @ 11:04 by vaxen : Wow...
Thanks skookum. Mplayer must have been fun. The old net used to be fun didn't it? Your newslog is getting to be very lovely. Your beingness is inspiring too. Thanks again skookum. Incidentally I won't be joining in at the old chat space any more. I don't like thrones very much and those who sit on them even less. ;)  

6 Dec 2004 @ 11:24 by istvan : Authored is contrived
The poem's greatnes to me is in the "unknown". Real wisdom has no author, the cahnnel can be all those who are ready to hear without ears.  

7 Dec 2004 @ 06:24 by skookum : There are times
when an experience becomes an eternal moment. This was such a gift to me, for he recited this when I thought my spirit was broken. He felt inspired to share this with me.

It's ok Vax...we share a comradeship that needs no place.  

22 Feb 2017 @ 08:15 by ylq @ : ylq
false happiness, but to see him (her) that happiness is really indescribable bitterness. But, those first so-called naive, will become mature in the dust, sinking pure heart, will eventually be in the years to bleach the vicissitudes of appearance, then, that a simple smile, a little happiness, hugs have become wanton the dusty memories, and that the road behind us is called to grow!Look up the tide will still be returned, it still was the flow of the appearance, but some things, twist once, it is hard to restore its original appearance, for example - love. Perhaps, very often, it is that we expect too much, so much disappointed, because understand, no longer hysterical, gradually become quiet. Over time, the body will unconsciously give birth to something called cautious antibody.The best love can stand the time of grinding, the test stand the distance, you can instant sensation, can also be attributed to flat bloom again when the wedding day. Two people together, often do not know how precious love, thinking that it is just a normal life, although sweet, but bland, but once separated, the kind of feeling one's heart is cut off, it will let you know the original plain life is the greatest gift of love, because love was in the flat and show its real long. I thought, only broke our hearts to prove that the feeling of love came later, beginning to understand, that sweet feeling of love is the traces of the painful feeling just as reconciled. If you can, in this life, to be a gentle woman, no longer begging for love, do not dust the flowers, offer the promenade years, we found an ordinary, simple love, if this desire can be a little luxury, I want it intact.[For years] streamerIn this romantic turn clouds, dust-free season in Autumn, I can not do forgive bright as the sun, happy, smiling, forgive me so quiet silent, alienated deserted. I just want to leaning against the window, watching a falling Raindance, read a chapter Que warm words, the only way I will not bored of Language and such incompetent and weak situation, sorrow. In fact, I just do not want people to visit, do not want to be sympathy, just want a quiet daze Ye Hao, Ye silent, scattered or.There is always a period of time, I became very indifferent, did not want to talk to anyone, do not want to send text messages to anyone, and do not want to contact anyone, just buried himself  

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