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.
Is my spirit broken?
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?
Your spirit is not broken
Unknown April, 99
6 Dec 2004 @ 11:04 by : 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 : 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.
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