.
.
In a sacred, woodland shrine
I sat with spirits
of another age —
braves, elders and chiefs
at the summer hunting ground.
of the Mississauga tribe
(A nomadic people,
some of them moved south
to join the Cherokee.)
.
I asked nothing of them
but, vowed to respect the sanctity of their land
and tribal customs.
Observing my open, lonely heart
they bade me follow them
to a clearing
I’d never before seen.
.
Standing there
was a beautiful princess
with eyes of onyx and raven hair.
Long grass swayed
silver in the moonlight
Her fingers brushed the tips of the blades.
We talked —
she bade me follow.
I have followed ever since.
.
Dennis Cardiff: Poems and Prose 
Leave a comment