CHEROKEE LEGEND OF THE WOLF ***, ryming poetry in the Australian Bush Poetry style Options

[Maureen]

In the forests frozen heart she glided soundless through the trees
where the winter drifts were thick and soft and white snow covered leaves.
Close at hand her two cubs followed they were frisky little pups
black tipped ears their only markings and small bushy tails held up.

In the distance stars were twinkling and the moon put on a show,
all was quiet, pristine, ephemeral on the white landscape below.
Then a shadow crossed the landscape and soon everything was black
as the sun and moon eclipsed – blocking all light from the track.

Mayla stopped and called her children – come here now and stay by me
for this is something that you are so privileged to see.
Don’t be scared my little children – on the first star make a wish.
It will peep out very shortly, slippery as soap in a dish.

Soon you’ll hear Nantuck your father and your brother Wahya call
if you sit and listen quietly you’ll hear echoes over all
the mountains and valleys, the song that Wolves do sing,
as they send their praise to heaven for the bounty nature brings.

You will hear the little white one call - Ayasha is her name
and her son Salali, small and brown of squirrel hunting fame.
Tayanita from the high hills where beaver lodges dam the stream
and Amadahy his young wife , due to pup next moon it seems.

If you listen quiet my children you will hear a wondrous song.
Soon you two will join the singers, once the winter snows are gone.
So Awanita and Galahi stood, though cold from head to toe,
and they listened to the echoes of the white wolves in the snow.

It’s claimed amongst the Cherokee white wolves are spirit voices
and the Cherokee know that their song is good, and thus rejoices.
White wolves bring to the tribe, peace, hope, and love. Security.
Which is why you feed the white wolf. The soul inside of you and me.


Maureen Clifford ©
The Scribbly Bark Poet


footnote - A lot of the American Native Indians legends resonate with me as they are similar in context to our Aboriginal Dreamtime stories.

[Arnfinn]

G'day Maureen

You have committed your share of research into American/Canadian Indian folklore.

Once again, another wild animal poem, told so well.

I agree I can see a lot similarity between American Native stories and Australian Aboriginal Dreamtime legends.

The Aboriginal word for wild dog is 'dingo' is it not?

Most Aboriginal legends refer to 'how', 'when', 'where', and why.

John

[Eisa]

Hi Maureen,

It is such a pleasure to read poetry like this. I love the rhythm - I can almost hear a solitary drum beating in the background.

I've always loved nature/animal poems, which is another reason why I enjoy reading your work.

Snow

[Maureen]

It is indeed John - Dingo or Warrigal

So happy you like it Eira - that means a lot to me. Thank you for reading and commenting.

Check out my personal blog site (link below) if you want to hear a beaut dog poem recited by a young Aboriginal friend of mine. I wrote it for him exactly 12 months after he lost his girl and (I am not a nutcase) it was written because his dog asked me, indeed urged me write it.

I was repeatedly drawn back to the photo of her he had put on another site. It was compelling, I asked permission if I could use it and he refused as it was a special photo to him and yet time and time again I went back to it. Then I wrote the poem and sent it to him - we had never met other than on line. He contacted me, asked me how I could possible know so much about his dog when none of that information had been told. I just knew and so we both believe that she made the connection with someone who could put her words out there for her Dad.

As a surprise for me and with the help of some other kind people he set it up as an audio tape which I then set up as the video clip
you will see on my blog site - it's also on YouTube.

Neither of us have heard from her since, but the barks you hear in the clip are hers.

Cheers

Maureen

[Psyche]

Dear Maureen,

What a beautiful legend and so deftly expressed in poetry!

I love wolves ever since I read Jack London's stories as a child. The Call of the Wild and White Fang come to mind, but my memory fails me on others.

But I love all animals, both wild and domesticated. I was always bringing home any kind of strays or wounded birds, to my mother's dismay. I grew up on a farm in Argentine Patagonia. Loved horse-riding!

I've clicked on your blog and listened to Lucy...wow...lovely, sad but ultimately spiritual in the best sense. I also visited you on FB!! There I came across your poem about the two sisters who were drowned in the water-hole covered with lily leaves and flowers. Which led me to UTube and your soft voice reciting your poem.

You've kept me busy, mate!

I have no nits after having read this Cherokee legend. I expect bush-style poetry -as well as North American original ethnic dwellers'- doesn't use much punctuation. I like that. So often punctuation gets in the way of flow.

So as not to go away without some tiny nit...LOL...I notice in:

'and the Cherokee know that their song is good, and thus rejoices.'

it should really read 'rejoice'. That would make an imperfect end-rhyme, but those are always acceptable. ToT, as usual

Hugs,
Syl***

[Maureen]

Thanks Syl - used a bit of poetic licence with my rejoices.

Happy you came across Lucy and my Babies of Walloon in my FB/blog sites. The original story was immortalized by one of our great Australian Poets Henry Lawson and the Ipswich Poetry Feast held each year in my home town uses the Henry Lawson Bicentennial Park at Walloon as the centrepiece for the event.

Your childhood amongst the animals sound idyllic although I'm sure there was lots of hard work involved. I'm an animal lover from way back, and the happiest time I think of my whole life was when I was far too briefly living on a sheep property, surrounded by 1000 merino ewes and lambs, 6 Poll Dorset Rams ,7 dogs, 2 goats, a shetland pony called Fernando and some Rhode Island Red chooks plus the odd goanna or two and some pretty horrible and deadly snakes who we eventually managed to dispose of. Never liked those snakes

[Eisa]

I found your Lucy poem - how touching to read your story behind the poem.

I've had my own strange experiences with dogs. A week after my collie died, I had a dream about a male Dalmatian running across the garden. When I woke I had a strange feeling about him, but laughed with my family saying it was not a premonition.

It was 4 years later that we decided to seriously look for another dog. I remembered the dream, but didn't particularly look for a Dalmatian or a male dog (we were used to bitches) I had found a lurcher I was interested in ... but then found an advert online for a 4 year old male Dalmatian in a rescue home 70 miles away. Something just clicked with me and I rang up the manager - Max was still there! He was not going to be an easy dog - but I'd cope.
Next day we drove up to collect him. He was large for a Dalmatian & very boisterous - my hubby wondered how I'd cope - I just knew I would. On the way home I looked through some papers I'd been given - microchip number, vet visits, pedigree & birth certificate. This was when I gasped in surprise, for he was born a week after my collie died, at the time I had that dream (could even have been the same night). This could be coincidence - but I don't think so.
A couple of years later, while walking by the canal with Max, my hubby stumbled and banging his head on the concrete edge. Unconscious he slipped into the canal and it was Max's yowling that alerted some folk further along. They found Mike Face down in the water ... so my premonition dog helped save my husband's life.
Max is 11years now and I love him so much!

[Maureen]

Eisa - what a wonderful story and how lucky for your hubby that Max was there. There is a reason for everything in life, and whilst it may not always be clear to us the master of the universe seems to have things well in hand. Your Max and Mike must share a very special bond. How wonderful that is for them both.

So happy you checked out Lucy

Cheers

Maureen