This will be the no. 10 in this volume as the month of poetry progresses. Sometimes April is still too cold to really fetch out last year’s thongs, shorts and tees. But on warmer weekends, it is rather all too pleasant to sit out on the porch, eating last year’s home-made applesauce, while watching the birds cavorting and playing in the wind, while books of poetry lay half open waiting for your attention. The following poem was previously published by Kendall/Hunt Publishing in 1987 in their “Voices of Native America. (Native American ideas, ideals, values and guides for living).
I reach out – Feel – attempt to meet
That great essence of creation
That drips from the trees in early morning dewdrops
Forming a pool of indigo blue depths
That mirror my soul.
I stand amongst the precariously hung cliffs of snow
That hang in the balance of each yawning precipice.
A too sudden or too careless motion
Will send the snow falling to the steep canyon below
It will destroy all within its path
Crushing and extinguishing life in all its forms
Very much the same, I muse, as we have done,
with the rape and pillage of our mother,
Our earthen mother we call home.
I see it all too clearly now
Only as we worship the Creator of all life
will we respect what He has made.
By Janice J. Robinson
If you are a Christian poet in the Chicago area, at least for the month of April, this writer would like to make available to other poets a place to exhibit some of your poems. Please only submit your own original poems, since you can give permission to publish your work. You can contact this writer at firstname.lastname@example.org. Your poems must glorify the Lord God, or His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ or the Word of God. God Bless you in your endeavors.