Witnessess   2 comments

cave echoes still resound in our ears

the stone-knapping toolmaker’s rhythm

still paces our step

each of us a carrier of rememberings

a curving stroke on cave spirals

ochered handprint fitting our fingers

like a lost glove found

past and present eyes

look skyward

greet the Belt of continuity

and imagine Orion like us — hungry hunters

of infinite musings and mysteries;

we unearth the bones of ancients

touch the walls they paint

to unravel our own rhythms

the wise seek answers

from Bristlecone Pines

five thousand years silent

trunks twisting from hardscrabble granite

hot breathed saber-toothed tigers scratched

their bodies on scored bark

dearest Bristlecones

did the sky birth you like so many stars

dropping hot bits melding you to stone shards

thirsting for decades near death

drinking  fire to spawn

hands fit through the wounds of your centers

are you gods of these 80 billion galaxies

did you raise your branches to the light in 1054

while watching in the mirrored stars

a cliff-dwelling man craft a star and crescent moon

then sign his message with painted palm and fingers

while at the same time a Chinese astrologer

halfway around the world wrote by the light

of the same luminance

what have you heard across the endless miles of time

the songs of whales      the snarling gnashing minds of war

Bristlecone Pine

wrap us in your wrinkled limbs

sing to us your buffalo dreams

music of a million hooves across prairies

sounding your core

we follow you ancient pines

like buffalo moving in the shadows of clouds


Posted August 16, 2010 by strongjacksonpoet54 in Poetry of Mary Strong Jackson

2 responses to “Witnessess

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  1. Years ago I had a buffalo dream, it is still pretty vivid


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