MY HEART; CHEROKEE AND CHEYENNE

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    MY HEART; CHEROKEE AND CHEYENNE

    I wonder sometimes what you are doing
    I cry sometimes when i think of you
    I carry you here
    Close to my heart
    I think of you every day
    My arms ache to hold you
    My ears strain to catch your voice
    My heart is with you
    Even though I am not
    Think of me
    I will hear you no matter where i am
    Listen for me with your heart
    I talk to you all the time
    We are connected you and I
    For although we are not together
    We will never be apart
    Listen for me in the whispering wind
    I sing you a lullaby each night
    Listen for me in the birdsong
    I am there wishing you a good morning
    Think o me when
    The warm sun touches your face gently
    I am there by your side
    Hear me in the thunder I come to drum for you
    Hear my voice in the lightning
    I am singing for you
    When the cold winder winds blow
    I am here beside you still
    My love warming you
    Look for me in the first flowers of spring
    I am here with you
    Call out to me with your heart
    I will hear you
    and softly answer you
    Listen for my reply
    All around you hear my voice
    Because my heart
    I am with you still

    WOLF NOMAD

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    ArgusWayne commented on MY HEART; CHEROKEE AND CHEYENNE

    10-16-2009

    Sounds like a very old Cherokee prayer drifted in to you from the Great Spirit and from you to us. You are blessed with a wondeful gift.

    wolfnomad

    10/18/2009

    Thanks I appreciate the complement

    StandingBear commented on MY HEART; CHEROKEE AND CHEYENNE

    09-24-2009

    I hear the native drums beat, the distinct sound from newly hided native's drums. The drums beat within each line.

    Photojan12 commented on MY HEART; CHEROKEE AND CHEYENNE

    09-22-2009

    How beautiful your words are. The greatest gift is our ability to Love. You have that gift.

    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

    Unknown Source

    wolfnomad’s Poems (94)

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