Tonight’
the moon is full
a ring encases
her beauty.
******
This is the time
to consider
The changes
passed and occurring.
******
A candle lit,
intentions are set,
tobacco is ready
and so is the sage.
******
My Eagle feather
wispers in my ear,
saying, “it’s time.”
to have a talk.
******
The strike
of a match
begins the sacred
time shared in sacred conversation.
******
Head bowed,
feather raised,
I just talk,
with my best friend.
******
Saddness?
Happiness?
Worry or Stress?
the Creator listens.
*******
Temeper tantrum
due to disappointment.
Spoken and forgiven,
yet, the Creator listens.
******
My world,
blessed
and filled with love.
I shouldn’t have complaints.
******
The humans
are good at
sabotage
when it come to thoughts.
******
I’m not
judging anyone
but myself
tonight.
******
Aren’t we
supposed to
evaluate our life
during this time?
*******
As I view
the glory
shining in the dark,
I release.
******
What is mine,
will come.
in divine timing
not mine.
******
One more moon,
talked to
about the
changes.
******
I know
I have been
heard and seen
but I also know…
******
What I want
may not
be good for me
and I am protected.
******
And…
So… I leave it
here
with the full moon tonight.
About the Creator
Sheila L. Chingwa
Welcome to my world.
Welcome to my thoughts.
I am proud to be a Native American Elder born and raised in Northern Michigan. Thanks to my hard work I have a B.A. in Education and a Masters in Administration and Supervision in Education.
Keep reading
More stories from Sheila L. Chingwa and writers in Poets and other communities.
Peek'a'boo who are you?
I'm working the graveyard shift. After finishing my rounds, I sit down at my station situated in an open foyer. The lounge is to the front, the elevator to my left, and the dining hall to my right, with adjoining hallways connecting everything to the central area where I'm positioned. This gives me a 180-degree view in case anything happens.
By spooky session7 days ago in Poets
In The Blink of Her Eye
Time itself bent and morphed, allowing Shannon the precious seconds needed to see and adjust to the disaster unfolding in front of her. Each frame showed minute details she would have missed had the clock not slowed down until she heard every click of the hands as they swept toward the end of everything. If only she was being melodramatic...
By Lisa VanGalen2 days ago in Fiction
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.