Manataka American Indian Council

_______________________________

 

 

 

Proudly Presents

 

 

 

 

POETRY CIRCLE...

 

 

 

MY CATHEDRAL

By Joseph Crew

 

Rain, more soft than air, with transparent color

Stolen from leaves, blades of sword fern and alder bark,

Moss green and ghost white in the misty air

Surrounds fallen columns of freshly cut fir, spruce and cedar

That sprawls weeping on the forest floor,

Their canopies crumpled and broken over deer beds,

With the sticky glaze of bleeding sap

Marking their wounds

 

The chewing howls of a chainsaw still

Echoes through your silent surroundings

Where coyotes creep breathlessly through the

Tangle of underbrush

Listening

For the rustling sounds of prey

 

Skyward, clouds ripe with rain, sleet and snow are pushed

Across the sky by riotous November winds

Anxious to reach unknown destinations

Where they will fade into an unremembered whisper

 

The arm of a forgotten maple

Long since joined together by fate to a neighboring tree,

Rubs and screeches in agony

As it shoulders against the weather

And waits for a gentler wind in spring

 

It is sad to witness some of your wall

Come down, a place that has

Offered peace and solitude in the dark days of winter

So sad to see part of my Cathedral gone

 

Can worship elsewhere be the same?

 

 

EMAIL   |   HOME   |     INDEX    |   TRADING POST