Thursday, June 01, 2006

Peace

“Be still, and know that I am God.” Psalm 46:10a

I see a river, as it dives from the cliff,
feel its spray on my cheeks, my white, aging
chin. I taste the river’s sweetness.
I see a river whose shores hold the answer.

I see the sweat and the blood, as they river
on the back of a dark, black slave.
I hear the beat of a slave mother’s heart,
beneath the hot noonday sun. I hear the beat

of the feet of the Cherokee brave,
running through the dark green forest.
I smell the smoke from the great chieftain’s pipe,
offered in the forest stillness, in peace.

4 comments:

didi said...

this carried me to many places.

d.

Helen Losse said...

Thanks, Didi.

James said...

The repetition of "I see" gives this poem so much rhythm. I can feel the pulse of your images, which is why I don't like the title "Peace." I don't see peace in this. Even with the peace pipe at the end - I feel like the pipe is used as a mode for escape for the speaker.

I have to say - this is one of the stronger poems I've seen in a while at cafe cafe, though I'd be careful about modifiers - "dark green;" "hot noonday."

Also, I'd finish with the image of the pipe.

Good job.

Helen Losse said...

Thank you, James. I will take these comments into consideration as I revise. This poem was written in response to a "Tip of the Day" on another site that advised us to "be still" at some point in the day. BTW, I noticed you live in Springfield. I grew up in Joplin.