carve me
with mighty heart of caribou
under mustard sky
I will fly with northern geese
to settle down with my spears
~0~0~0~
we mark trails
crossing the river of hundred fish
the sun is tempest bee
yellowing the fields to maple honey
we cast nets wide in a single wave
~0~0~0~
we stamp our feet
to furious beat of sticks and drums
come to prairie
where the soil is black
and every stone is alive with our blood
Posted for D'verse Poets Pub - Hosted by Bjorn Rudberg who shared with us these petroglyphs, stone carvings from Sweden.
You have really given each petroglyph an interesting story, Grace. You have brought those ancient times to life with your words....
ReplyDeleteThe sense of pioneering is so strong here.. the rivers and the caribou, I think this is exactly what you must have felt when you came to a pristine land... I can smell the possibilities
ReplyDeleteSure gave the glyphs a life of their own, they were one with the land back then.
ReplyDeleteWhat wonderful petroglyphs. We have some out at the lake, but not as clear or artistic as these. Your poems evoke their ancient mood so well, Grace. Really lovely writing.
ReplyDeleteI love the last one. And your title cracks me up. :)
ReplyDeleteA trio of tankas, somehow evoking prehistory; perfect words to match the stone/bronze glyphs. Very ambitious to tackle three of them; my fave is the third one.
ReplyDeleteNot just one but three poems, you've outdone yourself, Grace. You seem to be very conversant with caribou and trail marking. Just to be different, I think the first one was my favourite.
ReplyDeleteGrace, you have done an epic work with these three carvings and the poems with them. Amazing work and so very true to the spirit of those times. Bravo!
ReplyDeleteWhoa.... you aced this picture prompt :D
ReplyDeleteGorgeous work done!!
Ah yes the truth of their lives spoken well!
ReplyDeleteYour opening is so powerful...from the perspective of the caribou and I picture its spirit freed to the sky flying with the geese...amazing way to capture that one, Grace.
ReplyDeleteThe second piece - I love the idea of the sun as a tempest bee...
In your third portion the closing line really sums up powerfully the trio that you've created.
You really rocked this challenge! Much enjoyed. :)
I too felt the spirit of the people in your poems, Grace. You described three very different aspects of their lives with eyes that could have lived through that time.
ReplyDeleteI so agree and love two lines in particular "under mustard sky "and "the sun is tempest bee.
DeleteA mesmerizing synergy between the pictures and the poems. You've channeled a visceral, primitive quality in your words, that is powerful and moving.
ReplyDeleteThis feels wonderfully earthy to me. So intimate and matter of fact. Very nice.
ReplyDeleteLove what you've done in each vignette, weaving a whole story together.
ReplyDeleteWe don't have caribou here in Central Alberta, but we have deer (whitetail and elk), and moose and beavers and coyotes and foxes and badgers and porcupine, and if it get's really cold, wolves and bear ... studying their tracks and droppings in the snow is always a fun "class room experience" ... especially when u have a blazing fire place and sum hot chocolate waiting after "the lesson" ... smiles ... Love, cat..
ReplyDeleteWow! You find life in each one! I love the caribou flying with geese (I felt the spears). And in the next two, the field, the field bee yellowing and black soil/blood stone! How we move in with nets and carving. Thank God for art.
ReplyDeleteAn ancient dance of life
ReplyDeletefreer naked then
than now..
clothed
eyes
of
human
lies.. rock
art free humans
life.. unlike closed
eyes
of now..:)
these tales of primitive life are so full of passion...a very powerful write...
ReplyDeleteAll three are very powerful. Earthy, elemental and evocative. I could picture each one very clearly.
ReplyDeleteAll of these tell a tale to honor the ancient carvings. I would have to say the third one is my favorite as the sticks and drums release a primordial beat.
ReplyDeletewhere the soil is black
ReplyDeleteand every stone is alive with our blood
That's how man had abused the serenity of the prairie's richness of wild life
Hank
Three lovely short tales in poem, gorgeous.
ReplyDelete"the river of hundred fish"
ReplyDeleteLove, love this line.
Very enjoyable poems, thank you.
I love that last one!
ReplyDeleteThis is so alive, I love it
ReplyDeleteYou were able to evoke the ancient culture without relying on a history book, just your ancient souls knowledge. Well done Grace.
ReplyDeleteThis made me so happy, grace. I must confess the whole atmosphere of the prairie still haunts me. I love that part of the country, if only I were not so cold blooded I would move there in a heartbeat. I love the moods, the people, the whole epic of the place.
ReplyDeleteThis made me so happy, grace. I must confess the whole atmosphere of the prairie still haunts me. I love that part of the country, if only I were not so cold blooded I would move there in a heartbeat. I love the moods, the people, the whole epic of the place.
ReplyDeleteEvery stone... is alive with our blood. That's beautiful, Grace.
ReplyDelete