First People :: American Indian Poems and Prayers
Cookies | Privacy Policy

Sorry, we cannot allow this poem to used on other sites. This is at the request of the copyright holder. Thank you.

Thunderbird

I run, and watch as the storm clouds move in, like fearing to be devoured into nothingness.

Whipping in the wind like a snake, being eaten by the Gods, water spiraling up into the clouds.

Sheets of water and lightning blinding me, the sounds of thunder, like a battle cry, whipping at my senses.

Then silence, all is calm and quiet, trees swaying in the wind. My fear overtaking me, I start to run.

The cloud, hanging over me, swirling itself into a man with flowing white hair and beard.

"No, not you" he says, forming out of a swirling white cloud. "You, you cannot run".

"Look into the darkness, only then you will see what I am about." Standing upon the hill, beyond a valley of darkness, are those who cannot find their way home.

In the wind, I hear the song, a distant heartbeat of a drum reverberating from deep within the womb of the earth.

Deep inside, I see myself, as I turn to come home.

The loneliness.

-© Copyright Wayne Scott of Swan Lake First Nation Reserve of Manitoba Canada

Return to Native American Poems and Prayers

top of page.

First People. Your site for Native American Legends and lots more besides.