Cherokee Mountain

There is a mountain I must climb.

To chase away these ghosts, here in my mind.

I'll know when I get there.

Wearing three bald eagle feathers in my hair.

 

No more shall these eyes cry.

For I shall speak with Grandfather Sky.

For he is the one I love the most.

My father, son and holy ghost.

 

For these feathers three,

He shall surely give to me...

The strength of ten thousand angels wings.

To set my spirit free.

For once was a time, when I did truly love,

My Viking Cherokee.

 

So here this story goes...

There were many times, I did come to place

His finest earthly possessions and attire,

Upon our old front porch.

 

As my Cherokee mother once told me,

there is a very fine line between love and hatred.

Often times it is near impossible, to quench the fire out.

From such an ever burning torch.

 

Many was the time,

We laid upon our marriage bed.

With a stone wall between us.

Was our love dead?

 

Once there was upon a time, I felt so proud.

To be his woman, to be his wife.

For he had chosen me, amidst the crowd.

His beautiful regalia, spoke so loud.

 

Unto my heart!

How could we ever bid farewell to part?

We were solely of one heart.

One soul entwined.

United by two.

 

His hand in mine, the morning dew.

Whereas two became as one.

Underneath the morning sun.

Now may I bid thee, fare thee well?

 

Go in peace now, like the morning dove.

My once so tall and handsome love.

No more tears in these eyes shall swell.

Go freely now, to your new drinking well.

 

Fare thee well, my brother.

For once long ago, you were my lover.

Now I call you friend.

Until we meet again.

Reviews

[George Love]

Excellent! This is great.