I am Apache, rage of first rainstorm,
Child of the Water, Spring of the Morning.
I rise from dark hidden caves,
challenge and slay the giant beast.
I am Apache, brother to the fox,
kin to eagles, kin to bears.
I run free through deep arroyos,
on desert grasslands flush with deer.
I am Apache, lance of victory,
thunder, my charger, lightning, my shield.
I wear feathers of First Chief
avenging spirits of our dead.
I am Apache, stronghold of ambush,
enemy in mountains, twister in deserts.
My burning arrow asks no quarter
when war paint flares, war drums beat.
I am Apache, blood of battle clouds,
flesh of rawhide, dust of Mother Earth.
I ride the Great Mustang in hidden canyons,
sacred and deep, after Usen burns my wickiup.
Strange that this poem appears in the story section. Glad I found it here because I like poetry with a Native American theme. I have even edited and published a novel, by Brian Goodson, Native American, Seven Fires.
Similar to my attempt with A Saga of a Buffalo Soldier, your poem epitomizes psyche of an Apache warrior. A very fine attempt and beautifully executed. Enjoyed.
The drug called "The Shari" has been used for vision quests over many years. But, when all the rivers start drying up, the tribe must send a young hunter named Tomás on a much more important trip through the Amazon.
The drug called "The Shari" has been used for vision quests over many years. But, when all the rivers start drying up, the tribe must send a young hunter named Tomás on a much more important trip through the Amazon.
The drug called "The Shari" has been used for vision quests over many years. But, when all the rivers start drying up, the tribe must send a young hunter named Tomás on a much more important trip through the Amazon.
