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

Poetry n Prose 3

Betrayal Makes Us Stronger  

   We have all been betrayed, each and every one of us at one time or another. Betrayed by friends, family, lovers, co-workers, the government, the military, politicians; the list is there, each day someone else adds a name, citing the elements of the duplicity.

   Growth comes with adversity; it challenges us to face head-on the obstacles before us.  It can drop us to our knees, take our breath away, temporarily strip us of our dignity, break our hearts in two and somehow we find our way to the surface again, where the air is gentle and our thoughts begin to clear.

   Each time it happens, the pessimistic side is nodding, "uh-huh … told ya' so, told ya it would happen again … see, it happened again, uh-huh."  The optimist side is wary, but views it as another lesson, another way to move forward, to find other solutions, to strengthen the resolve to make the changes necessary to make a difference.

   Sometimes in our quest to prevent a reoccurrence, our vision is altered. While we are at the front door with a watchful eye, it quietly slinks in the back door, out of sight, out of mind and eventually what was concealed is blatantly obvious.

   Our reactions of shock, anger, hurt, and dismay are natural. We may choose to lash out in anger, confronting our antagonist, or we may assess the situation and find a different perspective and method of approach. Either way, most often the validity of our points are disregarded because the antagonist is likely closed to any other ideas.

   Betrayal becomes the proverbial jagged thorn that pierces our thoughts and emotions. Strength begins to occur when we uncover the awareness that we have some control over how it affects us. We can limp along in a state of denial, band-aid the situation and only pay attention to the pain when someone points it out to us, or we can stand up and acknowledge that it is time for the thorn to be removed.

  We get stronger because we learn the lessons, we accept the challenge to push past the anguish and move forward. We quit looking out the front door and ignoring the back, we stand in the middle and we stand strong in knowing that we can see and react in a more productive way, in way that brings about change.

   We get stronger because we must. We stand as warriors and we stand strong. We face betrayal with our strengths, with our knowledge of who we are, with conscious awareness that we can defeat this adversary; as long as we keep standing.

     

© Orannhawk

 

It Was Just One Of Those Days  

there were times when everything felt magical

the mundane became a mystical adventure

the innocent determination

the surety of self awareness

talent, trust, creativity

encapsulated and woven into my psyche

never questioned

 

it was, in its simplest form

clarity

precise and sharpened

honed with nothing more than

absolute belief 

 

dream it, do it

there's always a way

if it's meant to be

trust and it will come

 

over time

shadows spilt over the path

pushing 

intruding

scattering doubt

raining obstacles

 

stumbling

time and again

fragments shatter across the path

shards cut into the sole

bleeding

shards cut into the soul

belief

be lie

 

there were times when everything was magical

i painted mundane into mystical

a door closed

a window opened

 

i gave before i would take

still holding

still trusting

still dreaming

belief

 

before it

shattered

and i

watched

 

watched

as the remains

were swept away

while my soles bled

while my soul bled

 

pieces

gathered up

by other hands

slivers, shards, scraps

pasted, taped

like badges

unearned

 

opportunity knocks

subtle taps or

subtle traps

set

to remind me

perhaps mock me

 

could i pretend

could i

hold that space of illusion

transform it

into the

tangible

 

re-form

pieces

of innocent belief

to bandage

the soul

to cushion

the soles

 

could i

 

would a hand be at the door

freely assist

willing to

believe

in my dreams

 

see what

i can create

see

beyond the obstacles

trust in me

until the illusion of belief

returns

to the

truth of belief

 

before

emptiness

is stronger

than

the

memory

of

who

i

am...

when i painted mundane into magical

 

© Orannhawk

 

 

Remember "The Knee"

Bull Sitting at Knee, with Bigfoot’s Buffalo,

Warrior’s Kin, Now Blanketed Snow,

Six Score ago, Gold for the Train.

300 Hearts Silent, O Winter’s Pain.

                      ~ Bob Schmidt

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