*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1481756-The-Who-is-Me
by granny
Rated: E · Poetry · Cultural · #1481756
A cry for understanding,a prayer for all
Silent tears trace silvered tracks,
face up-tilted asking why,
prayers tumble in mixed up fashion
too many questions with no answers.

Beneath the branches of sweet Cedar
seeking comfort
for a heart that is bleeding,
pain that has no ceasing ripples through me.

Wave, after wave of shock washes through my body,
it can not be so final, each new thought
a begging for escape where there is no path
the roads are blocked.

No screaming at the heavens,
no fist shaken,
no blame placed, just misery and acceptance
of what can not be changed only watched.

Mankind has brought this to our doors,
misuse, greed, and wanting more,
poison in the air and water,
poisons in the food supply.

In truth, it is our own fault,
now we face an ending,
our children are not ready,
we did not prepare them for the future we force upon them.

Instead of teaching them the dangers,
we closed our minds and joined the race,
left them to raise themselves,
then wonder at their softness.

Why, we ask are they so self centered,
why can they not deal with realness,
why do they eat, sleep, and play,
with no thoughts about tomorrow?

Where did they learn this anger,
where did they learn this hatred,
where did they learn to be lazy,
where did they learn to think all should be handed to them?

Who taught them killing was the answer,
who taught them abuse is accepted,
who taught them to be so disrespectful
to their Elders?

The better questions my friends would be,
who did not teach them how to be,
who did not take the time they needed,
that who my friend is you and me.

Now the day has come
when our betrayal is discovered,
they have no inner guide, no anchor of faith to hold,
no identity of their own.

And so the tears continue,
for these lost children of the future,
they do not understand the Circle,
they have no ancestors voice to follow.

No wisdom of grandmother and grandfather,
no traditions to pass on,
no stories to remember who they are
and to honor the Creator who loves them.

Will they find their way,
will the Circle finally break,
will life be lost to all, is this man kinds last fall,
there is nothing left we have destroyed the best.

Join me please in prayer,
let our tears to mingle,
help me to bless these children, that from the darkness they will lead us,
Creator please, see the smoke is rising!

granny

© Copyright 2008 granny (wredgranny814 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log in to Leave Feedback
Username:
Password: <Show>
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!
All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1481756-The-Who-is-Me