R. J. Lindley,
Feb 2nd, 1973
Poetry-- Subject Nature, Wolf, Amerian Indian And Injustice...
Old note: My mother's father was Native American. I gained
great insight into the life of Native Americans from words
he spoke to me. Since his death, I have read many books that
gave even more historical knowledge on the subject. Finding
the ones that did not deliberately cover up the savage acts
carried out by "whites" against Native Americans.
New Note:
Population history of indigenous peoples of the Americas
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
The population figure of indigenous peoples of the Americas before
the 1492 voyage of Christopher Columbus have proven difficult
to establish. Scholars rely on archaeological data and written
records from settlers from Europe. Most scholars writing at
the end of the 19th century estimated that the pre-Columbian
population was as low as 10 million; by the end of the 20th
century most scholars gravitated to a middle estimate of
around 50 million, with some historians arguing for an estimate
of 100 million or more.[1] Contact with the Europeans led to
the European colonization of the Americas, in which millions
of immigrants from Europe eventually settled in the Americas.
The population of African and Eurasian peoples in the Americas
grew steadily, while the indigenous population plummeted. Eurasian
diseases such as influenza, bubonic plague and pneumonic plagues,
yellow fever, smallpox, and malaria devastated the Native Americans,
who did not have immunity to them. Conflict and outright warfare
with Western European newcomers and other American tribes further
reduced populations and disrupted traditional societies. The extent
and causes of the decline have long been a subject of academic debate,
along with its characterization as a genocide.[2]
American Indian, Nightshades, Moonshadows And Howling Wolf
Thirsty for red moon, its sacred beams and eternal pull
howling-out to speak to this dark and blind world, without fear;
Your echoes enter, soulful bones of insightful red man
birthing growing urges to return and run truly free,
falling upon ancient trails, foraging for lean red meat
race with red-heart's deepest desires into widest abyss,
embrace our mother earth, unified into one body.
Where ancient trails once well-known, rests under dust long fallin'.
Moon's golden realms hear both man and wolf, faithful loud callin'.
Standing proud, atop very high and lonesome mountain crag
winds caressing one of Nature's most beautiful creatures;
Notes calling loud, that give night's resplendent moon pregnant pause
in that silent and golden moment, where man so trembles,
for it is then knowledge comes, therein sings of true freedom
having no need for dreams of blind men or dark worldly lusts,
speaking to pack below, mirroring its deep felt tones.
Where ancient trails once well-known, rests under dust long fallin'.
Moon's golden realms hear both man and wolf, faithful loud callin'.
Alas! Fate and Fury- rage combine and oft delivers
soul-crushing, black-handed cuts from darkened realms far below;
Wherein has justice overcame Fate's most savage attacks
when hatred and greed both conspired to not be defeated,
in infliction of war's sorrows and deadly destruction
while parading under banner of Light and compassion,
tales of malevolent beasts, benevolently destroyed!
Where ancient trails once well-known, rests under dust long fallin'.
Moon's golden realms hear both man and wolf, faithful loud callin'.
R. J. Lindley,
Feb 2nd, 1973
Poetry-- Subject Nature, Wolf, Amerian Indian And Injustice...
Old note: My mother's father was Native American. I gained
great insight into the life of Native Americans from words
he spoke to me. Since his death, I have read many books that
gave even more historical knowledge on the subject. Finding
the ones that did not deliberately cover up the savage acts
carried out by "whites" against Native Americans.
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2018
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This poem was awarded Poem of the Week and places 24th, on the best the ONE HUNDRED BEST NEW POEMS LIST.
I was just a month shy of 19 years old, back when I wrote this.. Recently decided to present it at my poetry site and have it copyrighted as my work. --Tyr