Friday, July 20, 2012

She’s With the Wind
(dedicated to my sister, Holly Angela Law, 
RIP, 1-8-1955/ 4-28-2012)

She’s with the wind
 She has walked on
Into the light, the warmth, the love
Not alone, or unloved
Her campaigns that she fought so hard upon are done
She’s conquered life
She’s with the wind
She’s with the wind

Her life has come to an end
No stone shall bear testament
That she was here,
Except her parents’ own
And there lies only the mother in a coffin;
The father, like daughter, was caught up by the wind
Dust in the wind

But what of this gentle soul
Who never meant harm to anyone?
But who harmed her self most;
Lost within the labyrinths
Of the mind’s confusion;
She became a ghost of her former self
She spent her fire to exhaustion
Upon beliefs only she understood

She’s with the wind
 She has walked on
Into the light, the warmth, the love
Not alone, or unloved
Her campaigns that she fought so hard upon are done
She’s conquered life
She’s with the wind
She’s with the wind

She influenced her sister so much
Impressed her with her wisdom;
She knew so many things
Her mind so capable of grasping complexities
Hers was a mind that reached so far,
But somewhere along the way
There can a day
Where she shot past the right entrance
And instead moseyed into a realm
She should never have ventured;
After-which she could never quite find her way back?

And she wandered aimless but thinking her goals
Were still worth attaining; not hesitating?
While leaving behind her previous goals
And finally, she was unable to work those plans nor did she try
There was a time she allowed her sister to take part
In her visionary escapades; what else could they be called?
Fantasy realizations that both believed to be all too true
Two aspiring young authors carried on the invention of other worlds
But there came a day she said to the younger,
“Go make your own world and
 People it as you will and put yourself in its center;
There can be no room for two females where I am;
For I am all that a female embodies and all men here belong to me”

It hurt so very bad to be told this; pushed away after so long of sharing
And the younger sister walked down the road one day;
And slapped her own cheeks a few harsh slaps
And said, “What a fool you have been”
And yet, it was not over; it went on several more years;
It was not even that bad at the time;
Not like it came to be.

She wasn’t ready to let go of the younger sister,
 Her one staunch supporter;
Nobody else was ever allowed to get as close
And so there was a bond to the end
The sister loved her older sister,
Regardless of what was said or done

She’s with the wind
 She has walked on
Into the light, the warmth, the love
Not alone, or unloved
Her campaigns that she fought so hard upon are done
She’s conquered life
She’s with the wind
She’s with the wind

And regardless who understood the truth about her;
She will not let anything stop her from that love
She never turned away and the elder sister knew she was there for her
Although times passed when it was difficult to visit
In those last years after mother died;
And five years passed before the father died
But he was in declining health;
She, the oldest child, never saw him again
And he only knew how she was when
 The sister told him how his oldest was;
He would nod; not say much; there wasn’t much to say
She had no family; they were dead; all but a sister;
She told those who took care of her in those last days in April;
She was right; since no other bothered to visit her, why
Would she think anything different?

She’s with the wind
 She has walked on
Into the light, the warmth, the love
Not alone, or unloved
Her campaigns that she fought so hard upon are done
She’s conquered life
She’s with the wind
She’s with the wind

What impression did she make upon this world?
Well it is hard to say, the sister can only speak of the impression
She left upon her; maybe that’s all that matters.
How she came across to others- it is neither here nor there
What the sister knows is she loved her and told her so;
But saying those three words back was near impossible to express;
Yes, that hurt, but her mental illness kept her
 Unable to express this emotion;
Not unusual, being from a family that found it hard to say I love you
Even though it was a tight unit and
It stayed that way until mother passed on;
And then the family fell apart; and a new chapter began;
One with the elder sister in a nursing home to the end of her life

The surviving sister thinks back to the early years
How she had gone with her and daddy while
The elder took lessons on the violin;
But after a few visits it ended; for more than one reason;
But one was the price of the lessons was too expensive;
Another being the teacher, Les Smithhart,
Disliked daddy’s simple, country ways;
Maybe even because the younger sister sat in his precious rocker
Which had been reserved for Hank Williams and
He didn’t want anyone sitting there
And the four year old sat down, not expecting the outburst;
After which she was banned from coming in.

But it occurred to the sister, many years later;
What a lost opportunity that had been; she could have been
Something like: Alyson Krause, if things had worked out;
She had a pretty singing voice;
Something like: Buffy Ste. Marie;
And if she had achieved that one goal,
 Many others would have come true too
And she might never have gotten side-tracked, as she did.
When the sister cried that last day she saw her,
She was puzzled as to why she was so upset
She didn’t understand the tears;
 She asked her why she was doing it.

Yes she’s in a better place; but the loss
 And the sorrow that things didn’t go well in her life
That’s why the tears; and when she asked why;
 the words were’ I love you’
But they weren’t returned and
When she left she meant to return,
But a ride back kept her away;
 And so eleven days later, calls came;
 She was gone; there would be no more seeing her in this world.

She’s with the wind
 She has walked on
Into the light, the warmth, the love
Not alone, or unloved
Her campaigns that she fought so hard upon are done
She’s conquered life
She’s with the wind
She’s with the wind

©JA Wayahowl 7-20-2012

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

A Native Message
Sad hearted, I wandered through the burnt forest; ear turned to the summer breeze.
Upon the smoke tinged breeze floated the cries of animal and bird, warning me;
And from out behind the blackened trees, five young Indian braves surrounded me.
The five braves did not surprise me;
I heard their footsteps upon the dry ground;
Only when in drought can they be heard;
All other times, their walk is silent.

 “We come to you, our brother Wisdom, in concern over the way
 People of the earth are treating our world;
They are careless, and
They act without the respect they should have.
The earth cries out to the Red Man, for our help.
She knows we are closest to her of any man.
The sky is dry and sheds no tears;
The river, so long, and normally full to overflowing,
Now it is weak and cannot move,
Sluggish with trash-logged mud,
Dead fish, rotting in the heat;
Or wide-cracked banks that even the frogs can’t spawn in;
Where is the water?” said one brave, ribs showing in his gaunt frame.

  “They have man-made reservoirs with filter plants;” a second one said,
They drink bottled water; they think, they are fine, in their head;
Don’t they know fresh water is a scarcity?
And without it, humanity
Will crease to be?
Don’t they know that without water, trees die?
And without the trees, man will choke on his own exhalations?”

“What we breathe out is poison to us, but trees need it,” said a third brave;
“And in turn the trees give us the oxygen we crave.
Not a single breathe we take should be
Taken for granted,
Yet most of humanity
Does exactly that; well, soon mankind will learn;
One day soon, for water, we all will yearn.
No fish and no animals will be found;
And then what will there be to eat; any where to be found?”

“If plants all dry up; animals have no food, nor will we,” said the fourth man.
“The forest is brittle, and heat lightning causes brush fires.
One day soon, our home will be the one to expire.
The mountain peak that touches the sky
Needs to send down the snow
To water everything that sits below;
It will fill the streams and life can begin again.”

“Tell us, oh Brother Wisdom; what should we do,” asked the fifth man.
“I, Brother Wisdom, I speak; we must do our part, for the world to be revived;
They say even the mountain is bare; that little snow is on its slopes;
Why do you come to me, brothers?
What do you expect from me that I can do that you can’t do?
Are there no more homes for the bear and caribou?
You must keep this planet clean and safe for us all;
Both human and animal spirit alike;
Do I climb the mountain and call out to Creator,
Begging for mercy upon this earth and her people;
People know that keeping our earth clean is saving our home.
Parts of this earth have gone past help from man, in any normal way;
Only Creator can return to life what is already dead;
Only with Creator is there hope for another day.
As long as you chant to Creator; in this, you’re not in the wrong;
But whatever remains, in Creator’s hands,
It is alive and will heal itself in Creator’s time.
Only miracles from above and blessings of love;
And forgiveness of our ill ways will bring the change
That gives us a chance to continue living on this earth, our home.”

“Oh, Great Spirit, surely you hear our cry,” I continue to chant;
Hear us call out for help to save our home;
This land is where we are all free to roam;
Chant with me, oh brothers; A’ho.”

“A’ho; see our hearts are open; we are true in our request,  
We chant to you, on high, mighty Creator;
We will keep working; we will do our best.
We praise you; for you are worthy, oh Creator;
No one on Earth could ever be greater;
Creator of this universe; Creator of the way;
We praise you; oh, let the healing rains come this day.
We will all do what we must do.
Let the blistering curse across this land be no more.
Let this world, our mother, be the jewel of beauty
In the sky that she is; and we upon her surface,
Let us be content and happy. A’ho.”
Raise arms high and chanting; “Creator, show us your concern; A’ho.”

And as we look up, down falls the wet cooling rain;
A healing balm to this thirsty world comes once again;
“A blessing from Creator; there is hope once more; A’ho;
Earth returns to her previous state, once again;
Beautiful is our world, once more pollution free.
New life in abundance;
Joy in every step of life’s dance.”
Six Natives go back into the forest, returning home.
“Blessed be this earth; A’ho;
Praise to the Creator who loves this earth so much, A’ho.”

Saturday, July 7, 2012

            Heart Full of Hate
Why is it when we are children, and so young at heart;
Why do some of us have a childhood of being neglected?
Why are we abused, just because our Parent’s thoughts on a subject
Are often received, but for whatever reason, weren’t collected,
And when we didn’t do as they said to do, we are corrected;
To the child it just seems mean; a lot of yelling, cussing, hitting for what?
They never make it understood, except to say
 They told us and why didn’t we obey?
Being disobedient is a crime and it can reap severe punishment.
When a child received what they perceived as unfair punishment,
It brings anger, retaliation and resentment;
A child rebels and refuses to cooperate
It makes for a situation that gives leeway for a heart full of hate.

Do they not know how much we love them?
They will ask us if we love them;
Because we weren’t respectful
 And fought their attempt at correction;
They say we will ‘end up paying for much bigger sins,
Because if you start off young on the wrong foot,
You can only go downhill from there;
 Attitude will get you no where good, son.’
But do they ever take a look at them-selves?
Don’t they know to have respect given to them, it must be earned?
Sure they know it; they shove that rule in any misbehaving kid’s face
They want so much to put a kid in his or her place.
They only see faults in the child, never in them-selves.
They are the ones who don't open their eyes until it's too late.

No matter what they are trying to correct in the child
They are the role model the kid is meant to emulate;
And if they say, ‘eat your vegetables, but go on about hating greens’
What does that tell the child?
If it is all about the evils of smoking or drinking, but they do this;
Isn’t that just acts of confusion; if you preach it, then do it or shut up.
If you birthed a child at 15 years old,
 What message are you passing to that same child?
When you say, ‘no, don’t have sex so young;
 You’re not ready; don’t repeat the mistakes I did.’
Well, all the kid knows is ‘you did it and I am here;
And there you go saying I was a mistake?’
Their feelings hurt, feeling rejection; a heart full of hate.
They don’t see it was a bad arrangement of words;
It wasn’t that the child was a mistake
But that the steps to having the child was bad choices
In fact, usually made because their parents
 Tried to stop them from doing wrong;
And the kids will follow that train of thought with,
 ‘So why tell me anything; I’ll do as I please; it’s my body;
Hard headedness is a trait passed from parent to child.

The child can’t see the good points you make
Or why you are so frustrated;
They don’t realize you are upset
Because they want better for you;
But in fact most parents repeat
The same mistakes their parents did too.
One day, they will look in the mirror, and say;
 ‘Oh my God, I have sealed my fate.
No wonder my child grew up with a heart full of hate.’

Well this doesn’t just happen in America;
 Neglect and abuse of children goes on all over the world;
One day it will come to a screeching halt.
Parents will finally admit they did the things their parents did.
They never thought they would but the rebellious spirit puts them in those shoes;
Only if a child sees early on the truth and sets out to be different than others
Will the day come when they will find their children’s love is there?
And with it, respect for them, because they were fair,
And explained why any punishment had to be made,
 so that there wouldn’t be a misunderstanding.

For most, you best believe, and trust me;
If a child rebels it was due to anger earned;
 It is the parents at fault for not clarifying why
 The child should not do something or other.
Each set of parents reach a day
When they will take that final walk;
They won’t be able to say a word by then even if asked to talk.
So much about arguments is brought on by misunderstandings;
Before it’s too late, go to the Lord in prayer and ask forgiveness.
They should plead for the child to be relieved of that heart full of hate.
Only then can there be hope for families with grown children
Whose hearts are full of hate?
Don’t let it come to that; seek understanding.

I am a man who grew up with his heart filled with hate.
I thank God for great people who helped me change my fate.
I made a choice so long ago not to be like my Dad;
I said I would grow up to be nothing like the man;
He fathered me, but in most ways wasn’t a loving father;
Yes he and my mother brought me into this World.
I saw how cruel he could be to her, as well as any of her children;
I was the oldest of six; he made another family and six more kids;
I’m not sure he was any more loving to them than us;
It seems that way, but I know my daddy’s ways.
I think a man like that would find it hard to love anyone.

He taught me by his bad actions to be a more kind, concerned man;
I might get angry but I do my best to insure they understand I care.
 I will treat my Kids like they are angels every day that I can.
I will not let life go on, and they never see a loving Dad until its too late;
I Love them while they are young and they will know I always cared;
To me this matters more than anything else in life;
So I suggest to you, don’t wait;
Begin loving your children so that when they grow up
They know their own offspring is safe and will be treated well around grandpa;
Be sure they know exactly why you say ‘no, don’t’
And hold off on the abuse; it won’t help your case.
Remember anger only brings on the worst of feelings.
 I say this and I mean it with all my heart;
I refuse to let my Child grow up with a heart full of hate.
 JD Couch and Jerriann Wayahowl (7-4-2012