In the lifetime before the lifetime before this one,
and again the lifetime before that,
I danced under the blue sky at the sundance,
when I and the world were young.
The beat of the drum sang in my blood
and my feet moved in joy,
and I danced
and I danced
as if it would last forever,
when I and the world were young.
The Old Ones smiled on me
with kind eyes, but with sadness, too,
for their dreams foresaw suffering
for the people.
Over in the meadow, grey wolves flitted
in and out among the Standing People,
paws prancing high,
and the backs of the buffalo
carpeted the earth
in the days
when I and the world were young.
And now I live again,
in an alien skin,
in a world grown cold.
The buffalo are gone and all that moves
is made of metal.
And I am an Old One
with kind, sad eyes,
watching the young dance
in a world gone mad,
and the ancient spirits are crying still,
remembering the days of
dancing under the sun
when they and I
and the world were young.
and again the lifetime before that,
I danced under the blue sky at the sundance,
when I and the world were young.
The beat of the drum sang in my blood
and my feet moved in joy,
and I danced
and I danced
as if it would last forever,
when I and the world were young.
The Old Ones smiled on me
with kind eyes, but with sadness, too,
for their dreams foresaw suffering
for the people.
Over in the meadow, grey wolves flitted
in and out among the Standing People,
paws prancing high,
and the backs of the buffalo
carpeted the earth
in the days
when I and the world were young.
And now I live again,
in an alien skin,
in a world grown cold.
The buffalo are gone and all that moves
is made of metal.
And I am an Old One
with kind, sad eyes,
watching the young dance
in a world gone mad,
and the ancient spirits are crying still,
remembering the days of
dancing under the sun
when they and I
and the world were young.
How we love it when young when all dance along with us! It's ok with Hank. I could connect from my side, Sherry Ma'am
ReplyDeleteHank
A great solastalgia poem Sherry, leaping right into the dance, its deep and distant continuity, its severing and result. What the dance teaches is that if we would want to know where and how to go in a withering world, we should dance. Thanks for remembering. - Brendan
ReplyDeleteBeautiful
ReplyDeleteI can so relate to this, dear Sherry. I fear my dancing days are done, but in poems like this one we can relive them in memory and hope.
ReplyDeleteThis feels both prophetic and hopeful--I think we must hope--
ReplyDeletebeautiful poem, Sherry...creates a picture of another time..JIM
ReplyDeleteThe beat of the drum has always been in my soul, I think my ancestors are sure that I listen. Beautiful poem
ReplyDeleteI do believe you lived amidst the people of the earth many lifetimes ago.
Wow … this is beautiful writing, Sherry. You have struck such melodious notes here … it reads like music. I'd love to see this expanded into a much longer performance piece. Spoken aloud, it is spiritual.
ReplyDelete