Open Poetry #42 |
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The Prophet's Story - As Told by Earth and Sky |
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WindWalker Senior Member
since 2001-10-12
Posts 1218 |
The prophet heard the coming of the times: of course he did, that's what prophets do. The prophet saw the rising of the tides: of course she did, that's what prophets do. The prophet tasted fully the changing of the times: of course he did, that what is said people will do to those who insist on being prophets -- to those who always must give the right message always in the worst possible time: when society hears but finds it terribly inconvenient to listen. The prophet for her trouble was nailed upon the tree and her children were all sold into slavery. "Should I have remained silent for the children's sake?" She screamed in agony dying abandoned and alone but for waiting vultures perched on two lesser trees. The question has been answered already by society: by a railing, mocking, gawking, thieving multitude that stole her last possession and jeered: "If thou be the Prophet and True, save thyself and us!" The prophet has returned to her own world to grieve and "The Prophet's Story" is now known far and wide across immensities of space where other worlds spin; where humans evolved beyond the plagues of darkness; where they listened to their gifted ones and realized in time no one has ever choked from swallowing one's pride. A new body has been given her but she insists that on her back, her hands and feet, as in her heart it must continue to broadcast the scars of her passage to remember, to feel, the hate-filled sea she faced in trial and every night no sleep she allows to ease her sorrow: cry she does, tears uncounted she sheds, for her children lost who unknowing and un-remembering must now die beyond reach of any compassionate heart or mind. |
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© Copyright 2008 Sharran WindWalker - All Rights Reserved | |||
Robert E. Jordan Member Rara Avis
since 2008-01-25
Posts 8541Philadelphia, Pennsylvania |
WindWalker, This is a sad and wonderfully told story. This story is a complete mystery to me. However, I'm intrigued enough to ask what the origin is for this female prophet? Tell me more. Bobby |
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WindWalker Senior Member
since 2001-10-12
Posts 1218 |
Well all I can say is my writing is like a wild horse. If you want to know what it feels like to ride it, you have to catch it and ride it yourself. No one can do that for you. Don't ask me "What did you mean when you wrote this or that" -- ask yourself what it meant to you when you read it. I do not write for myself. I've already caught my wild horse and ridden it - all the way to here. I hope this makes sense; and thank you Robert E. Jordan for your comment. |
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Marchmadness Member Rara Avis
since 2007-09-16
Posts 9271So. El Monte, California |
I know what you are saying here WindWalker. I don't always know where some my poetry comes from exactly. I just know that it comes from a deep well of knowledge that even I don't always understand. Ida |
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
WindWalker, Like yourself, everyone has a wild horse to ride. I applaud your sensitivity to the understanding of the various stories that reach through the ages, as we will all comprehend and hold to us that which speaks with both loudness...and silence. I sense you read between the lines of your books, novels, and stories...as I believe it should be. Writers never know who they might touch...I think a lot of them only wish to touch at least one person and then in turn, wish the critics a good life, and walk on. Keep writing, my friend. I do enjoy reading your posts. ![]() " It matters not this distance now " Excerpt, Yesterday's Love |
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secondhanddreampoet Member Ascendant
since 2006-11-07
Posts 6394a 'Universalist' ! |
a most interesting write (on many well-nested levels!) poet?...prophet?...'dreamer!'...let us kill him(/her) and then see what becomes of his(/her) dreams! serious applause!! |
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