Fire and Ash

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  • Life

    Fire and Ash

    We  were all children born of fire or ash;

    fire in the eyes, the belly, the groin,

    rebuilding itself at each possible slight or passing insult,

    fire eating the entrails of the enemy

    shaking its head to break their spines,

    fires warming us in the marches

    across frozen earth and ice water,

    fire reborn with the sun.

     

    Ash in the soul that shifts and powders with the wind

    stalking weakness,

    preying on the spirit though the flesh is willing.

    Ash that covers the face

    freezing time in one horrified moment

    before what was becomes what is

    ash that settles deeply in urns

    displayed on mantles or in museums.

     

    We were born of the rage our parents carried

    like medicine bags

    stitched tightly in their hearts.

    rage that exploded in secluded couplings

    rage disguised as love

    raging in the deep, dark night

    that held them as tightly

    as they held each other.

     

    We were born of fear carried in dominant genes

    passed on to each generation.

    Fear that named us

    labelled and claimed us;

    fear that shackled and chained us

    each to one another,

    fear of anyone not Indian,

    fear of each other.

     

    We were born of these things

    watching Bear and Deer

    dancing together in the old stomp grounds

    where trees approved their efforts.

    We wore fear like blankets

    putting out the fire on our backs

    leaving only ashes

    to float in the arid winds

     

    We were born, we grew and we die.

    These things I know and welcome.

    It is good we are recycled

    that what we have is given over n inheritance.

    Underneath the fear, the fire, the ash,

    We dream and pretend the land is ours;

    that we are not conquered or dying.

    We pretend.  We dream.


    Rebecah Hall

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    Rach29 commented on Fire and Ash

    09-20-2009

    I can really feel the emotion and purpose of this poem. I love it!

    Peacefulady

    09/20/2009

    Hi Rachie! Thank you for that. It is a very evocative piece of work and quite controversial but has won several awards. Thanks again honey.

    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

    Unknown Source

    Peacefulady’s Poems (3)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    Requiem for the Lost Generation 2
    Fire and Ash 1
    Sestina: Song of the Dream Catcher 1