Whisper n Thunder

The Whisper of Native American stories, the Thunder of stories that demand to be told.

Poetry n Prose

Hummingbird, Hummingbird
~ Morning Star

Hummingbirtd—Hummingbird--I wonder where you are today. It is such a lovely day, and I am thinking of you. Where would you be?

Sometimes, I see Hummingbird the mountain tops, some days I see Hummingbird on the hill tops, some days I see Hummingbird in the valleys, some days I see Hummingbird dancing and fluttering about. Some days I see Hummingbird other places spreading colors of orange yellow blues and greens.

You spread them here and spread them there and then you once again flutter away to a new flower place and time. Sometimes, I see Hummingbird hide, and then you are silent to the world. Sometimes you are hidden from the world. Sometimes you do not speak to the world.

I now see Hummingbird has escaped from her cocoon, and now she is once again spreading colors of orange, yellow, blues and greens. When you make the beautiful colors your eyes become bright with a spark of mystery and wonder at times.

Today we see Hummingbird is flying free and happy again. Hummingbird is dancing and fluttering about. Some days I see Hummingbird other places spreading colors of orange, yellow, blues and greens.

Hummingbird went to the mountain tops, and you were gone for so long, you were not to be found. But now you can spread your dance and your colors once again.

Hummingbird, Hummingbird comes back to us, spreading colors of orange, yellow, blues and greens. Hummingbird is dancing and fluttering about.

The Manitou: Part I

A haunting misty foam, hangs limply,

o'er the Rockies westward ridge,

like an Eagle’s wing's plunges amply.

Creation's yin-yang's a twin marriage -

of sunken, gaping valley,

and dark myths of the river’s carriage.

The capricious landscape sleeps in a galley

science, civilization compromise

and span the meeting of the bridge.

Huddled to the mountains slack

are wooden shacks

like dots engrained in the craggy mass,

Farmers & Native Americans reside on ridge
when imbibing the stalks of grass

a secret haunts their carriage.

Legends 'mid bedless rivers, stormy seas
from their depths rise like wainscot

the ancient ‘Manitou’ on the lees.

An Indian alter ego bloodshot,

seeding vistas as visionaries

from the shingle-filled pit of Hades,

to the yawning, far-distant prairies,

inhabited by the herds of caribou.

Rises, it rises and rises again;

a Phoenix from the ashes - Manitou!

Out of the river’s coal black rooftop!

Then with its human form re-unites

terrorizing man and fowl atop

with symmetry of thunder smites

girth of stonework: unknown mountain top

imprinting legends of Northern Lights
hence returns to the deep depravity.

The mass of clouds azure,

the moon's floodlights droop in despair:

the Goddess gravity
above the din of that winter’s night

arose with cries of Indian burial rites!

Part II

Shapeshifting through time's aeons

from a memory of earth's yesterday

the Manitou changes form and mien

a Chameleon, a mystic shaman, today

resting on the torch of sun lit justice

purging the earth when in a swoon

knows the balm of its poultice;

his female consort is the mystic moon

who cries lament so he sallies forth

with speed no man can copy;

his electrodes are not fired in the north,

nor the south, west or east. No floppy

wave of ambivalence his judgement rod;

in the purification will purify

Taurus Battering Rod his ramrod -

the materialism of man will he nullify?!

~ Roibeard McElroy

Footnote: I first became aware of the Native American legend of the spirit God, "The Manitou", when I saw a Hollywood movie adaptation of the belief about twenty years ago. I have read about it since then and I was particularly intrigued that it was covered in one of the episodes of the sci-fi series, The X-Files! This was originally a piece of prose, written in 1989. I have now revised and added a second part to it, and molded it closer to a poem.

WOLF STORY ~ SHAPE SHIFTING
Author's Note: The importance of Shape Shifters varies within the different tribe cultures. The following provides a glimpse into understanding the connection between humankind and all animals on Earth Mother directed by the Creator. ~ White Wolf

White Wolf leaves his tribe’s camp wearing only a buffalo robe as he walks up the path that will soon end, into the wilderness, never ending. He continues walking deep in the wilderness. The pine trees are big and there are many close together, yet he still sees the sun shine through in a few spots on the forest floor as it sets, making long shadows.

He’s been walking for a few hours when he comes to a place he vaguely remembers. It’s a small clearing with deep grass and daisies on the forest floor, surrounded by sage and dense cedar and pine trees. He spreads out the buffalo robe and gathers some sage and cedar, only after asking Earth Mother for her permission. He sits on the robe and makes a spark to ignite the bundle of sacred herbs. He holds the bundle and uses his hand to pull the smoke over him giving thanks to all directions, Grandfather Sky, Earth Mother, and all that is. White Wolf asks for protection, for the night yet to unfold, with the guidance of the Creator. The Creator speaks to him and says, “Start running towards the tallest mountain.”

White Wolf stands up and looks around. He sees a parting in the clearing. The sun has set even farther and the path is just shadows. He walks into the shadows of the path and the path becomes brighter. He starts running towards the top of a small hill to pause and look around. He sees the sun is almost at the horizon and knows the night will soon be here. Everywhere around is just wild and free, with no signs of man. White Wolf sees a glisten sparkle from the sun’s reflection in a creek at the base of the tallest mountain. This is the sign of which the Creator has shown the path.

He starts running towards the bright light. Suddenly he’s feeling different; he’s running on four paws, not two feet. He feels stronger, with more power and speed in his stride. He looks to his shadow and sees a wolf running through the sage, his shadow. Can this be true? White Wolf is feeling good, with tongue hanging out the side of his mouth. He does as he thinks - turn on the speed, get to the top of the tallest mountain. When he reaches the bright light of the sun reflecting off the creek, he pauses to look in the water. It is true; he has shifted shapes and sees his reflection from the water. He is the true White Wolf, pure white like the North direction color for purifications. A quick smile in the water, then a jump over the creek and he continues running even faster than before to the top of the tallest mountain.

He stops on the top of the mountain and he’s in a place that he remembers. It’s a good place where he can see for more than miles in all directions. White Wolf looks towards the sun and squints his eyes, as only half the sun is still above the horizon. He walks around in a circle many times then finally lays down facing the sun looking up into the sky. The sky is changing colors from deep blue to yellow and orange with some red, growing stronger by the second. Closing his eyes, he thanks the Creator for this time. Crossing his paws he puts his chin down on them with his eyes closed yet still seeing the red color getting brighter. Thinking it’s time for a short nap, knowing he will hear his brothers and sister call when the time is right.

White Wolf kicks his feet as he heard a call in his dream and it made him jump straight up on his feet. He looks up in the sky and sees the moon is full and bright shining through the top of the pine trees, more than half covered by the trees, which makes the stars, so many, bright and shinning. He thinks of the medicine council of the stars where our Ancestors sit. He hears the howl from forest and turns his head to the right direction of the true path. It’s the pack, it must be time.

He hears the wind blowing softly through the pines, whispering a song to blow his long white fur; this will be a good night. He starts walking towards the direction of the last howl. He hears another howl, this time two voices. It is the pack. He adjusts his direction and starts running. He’s in the trees now and sees the moonlight on the forest floor, like spot lights guiding his path. Running faster with each step he sees movement between the trees. White Wolf connects with the pack and they are so happy, a big family, jumping on each other, tails wagging. Good feelings abound - the greetings are warm and friendly.

Then they hear the snap of a twig. Everybody stops, in a freezing pause. Slowly they look at each other and smile. White starts off in the lead, moving in stealth with his head low and ears straight on towards the noise they heard. He pauses and turns around to see the rest of the pack close behind him. Everyone is following the Alpha, White Wolf’s lead. He looks over to the Alpha She Wolf. She’s black and dark, deep like the night with bright green eyes glowing in the shadows. White Wolf nods his head, the sign to split the pack to move in from two sides. He looks back to the front and then it comes, another snap of a twig, this time much closer.They all lower their heads and move swiftly in stealth towards the sound. All smiling as they know, the hunt is on.

White Wolf slowly opens his eyes to see the sky is getting light. He looks down at his paws, and they are man hands, same as his feet. He’s wondering if this was but a dream. A vision in sleep time. He stands up and wraps his buffalo robe around him; it’s a cool morning chill, and he has no fur. He sees the path in his dreams and walks in that direction until he reaches the top of a small hill. Looking down, his eyes and mind are surprised, if only for a moment. On the ground man foot prints, his, from that point forward they are the tracks of a wolf, his tracks. It’s always good, to be validated.

White Wolf walks down a new path towards the camp of his tribe. He stops at a running creek with hot water. It’s a Natural hot mineral spring. He drops his buffalo robe and slips into the hot water. He’s feeling the soothing powers of the minerals, making his skin all silky and smooth, so clean and purifying. He leans back looking up into the soft light of the morning sky, still seeing a few stars. Closing his eyes his mind goes back to the night, he sighs and thinks; “That was a good night.” He thought it might be sad, but it was everything but that. White Wolf knows he will be there again with his family in the wilderness and his She Alpha Wolf. Not a vision… it was real.

He gets out of the hot spring and wraps his robe around him. He starts walking on this new path towards his tribe’s camp; over the last hill he pauses and looks at the camp. Some Teepees are glowing with smoke coming from the open flaps.

He sees his own teepee with the smoke going up into the sky making different shapes. The soft morning wind is blowing through his long hair and it wraps around his face. Brushing it back the smoke has shifted and it looks like a White Wolf in the sky. It is a good sign, but he’s not hungry and knows why. He’s thinking, I will go down to my village and hunt today, to provide food for my other family. He sees an Eagle circling over his teepee and hears its call. Off in the distance he sees a big dark cloud on the horizon; there is a flash followed by a rumble of thunder, it’s whispering in his ears, as a very deep voice; “This will be a good day.”

~ White Wolf

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