Whispering Wind

by Kate Demeree


(this is just a draft)
Setting on the side of the hill, with the wind blowing across my up turned face, wondering what you are doing. It seems that I am destined to wander on this plane. Briefly seeking shelter before I travel on again. You are my companion, though you will never know. I wipe the silent tear away before it gets the chance to grow, into a waterfall.
Time now to shake the dust off from this frame. Put back on the moccasins, felt good to take them off. Stretch myself to limber the old aching limbs before I begin my journey once more.
I had thought that this was where I could rest, this was the place of peace. Now I realize that there is no peace for me.
Slapping my thigh, I call the wolf with the call of farewell. He may choose to travel yet with me who can tell. He is so fit, with the strength of his youth. But the time is fast approaching when he will grow long of tooth. For now I thank the ancestors that he bides with me. We suit each other he and I, choose to walk a different path from the others of our tribes.
Laughing I shake my head, time enough to ponder on this in the new hours of the night. Time enough in the night to think on all of the things we could have been to each other. For now, this moment, I am alive ALIVE such a queer sounding word... it rolls strange on my tongue and vibrates in my chest. I shout it out loud just to let myself feel it again.
The wolf has decided to come along and true to his nature with me, wants to make a game of it. He is large for his kind and could easily shred my tunic with a playful swipe of his massive paw, yet I have never once received a scratch from him. Running at me from behind he leaps into the air and knocks me to my knees, while he comes to ground just out of my reach. His eyes hold the laughter of the sun, with its warm kiss, as I get to my feet. An answering twinkle begins to grow in my eyes.
Yes... It is so good to be...Alive!

*Not finished, yet, may finish, may not.
Copyright © 2001 Whispering Wind

My name is Whisper, for my tone is usually soft to the ear. My friend and companion Wolf is just that. We travel wherever the wind takes us, sometimes into strange places, always to new ones. There will be a day I hope when I return to a few we have been to, but for now, we travel onward.
 I have walked the paths between the tall buildings which man calls cities. There man crowds in on himself, always wanting his brothers' goods, never having enough room to grow free. I do not like those places. Wolf much as I would always walk free, but there he must become other than he is, and be chained. Never much cared for chains myself, nor using them on a friend, so unless the call is great we avoid those places.
This day found us on the side of the hill when the Great Spirit once more filled our sky with bright light. I have heard the call again and know it is time. The air has that taste... the wind... has changed, time to move.
It was not always this way; there was a time long ago when I lived with my people. Though I was never fully at ease there, I spent many summers with them. I never quite got the hang to being what they expected of me. This being so, there was much unrest among us.
I remember the first time I saw Wolf... It was just another day much like the one before it... nothing to prepare me for what was about to happen. Nothing to foretell the change that would take me far from home and my people.
It was the time just before the Great Spirit fills the sky with it's bright light. When the mist sits heavy upon the grass. I seemed to be the only one who felt the change to the wind. That itchy feeling it brought to me did not seem to trouble anyone else.
I decided a walk down to the stream, might be what I needed. It was always soothing to sit and let the water rush across my feet.
The path through the tall trees was deserted no footfalls to be heard, not a bird was calling. Even the wind was now silent. There was a gray mist growing all around. Having walked this path every day I knew it well and the mist did not disturb me. I have always walked quiet, and the silence though deep, was comforting to me. There was a clearing ahead of me, I thought that I must have taken a wrong turn, although I did not know how I could have.
In the clearing there was a great rock, surrounded by shafts of new sun, on the rock was a thick mist, so thick that you could not see through it. The mist had teeth, and eyes of fire, and spoke with the voice of the rain gods.
Copyright © 2001 Whispering Wind


"Come closer child" softly rumbled across the clearing... the ground at my feet trembled. The beat of the drum in my chest grew in volume and speed. The rumbling came again more insistent, yet not any louder than it had been the first time. I heard the words, felt an echo of that tone inside of me, an answer. With unsure feet I walked closer.
The eyes of fire looked into the very center of my being. The voice of the rain gods thundered once more across the clearing... and the air shimmered.
I saw many places... strange people... the sun rose and set across many plantings, time had no meaning.
All of what could be, and what had been was spread like a blanket before me. I saw others like myself and felt a thread connecting us. I watched unable to move as the thread was broken, the ends frayed, all that were connected at one time drifting. I felt the pain of the separation. I heard the cries across the nations, echoing through time.
The ache within my chest that had always been there, the feeling of alone... multiplied, intensified with each thread as it broke.

Copyright © 2001 Whispering Wind


And the mist spoke... "Gather together the threads child, they are the blanket of all nations. Others like you... ones who have lost their way. Bring to them your heart, show to them the light, remind them of home... that they may yet find their way back"
Thunder rumbled... the mist rose... and there stood Wolf at the edge of the clearing. Rays from the new sun turning him silver... the journey, was begun.
Copyright © 2001 Whispering 


It has been many suns, since that day in the wood. My moccasins have seen the earth of a thousand cities. Always we move onward, searching for the next thread in the blanket. Rivers edge has changed since that day long ago
  I begin the walk once more. Strong is the call as wolf pads silent at my side. Gone the trees grown strong in fertile mother. Here on the hill grass grows tall with the voice of tomorrow. Songs of the ancient ones, silent now. I look to the sky in search of eagle, listening for the sound of cricket and frog strange are the noises. There is no quiet here, no peace, no cricket or frog as we walk in the heavy air of morning. The ground can not be seen or felt beneath my feet, heavyhearted I seek to find it.
 You are here; I have felt you as the drum of my heart grows strong becomes the feet of a thousand warriors, preparing for battle. Heart and spirit soar to boundless sky, the hours of the day are new, and I feel you.
Wolf full of sunlight, with youth?s boundless energy runs ahead of my slower plodding steps. The wind is changing the itching on my skin increases, the air shimmers and I stand before the rock of my grandfathers.
Thunder rumbles, as mist gathers around my buckskin laces, and I tremble. Silent wolf sits at my feet. The old ones sing in my veins, moving my spirit through the mists. Threads gather, as spirit calls to spirit. Cries of those yet lost becoming songs on the wind, which howls through time. Great Spirit fills me with the ancient sounds of home. Warmth floods me wrap me in the blanket of the nations clothe me with the threads that are woven through my spirit. Anguished cry of alone escapes my lips and I weep red tears for the one who calls.
Gone are the mists, the sound scents of home before me sits one so utterly alone, lost. The thread of their being torn from the blanket. Eyes of ancient pain look into my soul, questing what is their worth. Why this weight that sits heavy on heart, how come they to this place of wind and rock, without the clouds tears to wash the dust from their being. My heart grows heavy with the weight of their sorrow. Ancient spirit moves through my hands as I reach out to embrace sibling lost in the two-sided half-truths of man. Wolf knowing that his spirit is needed draws near to the lost one. Offering as I, his strength of spirit, his great beating heart. Ancient ones from the village speak to me in soft whispers of the old ways. "Show this one the light, bring them home. They have lost the path being to much alone". Once more the lodge of my father, tall trees with branches spread before the endless roof of sky called its children home.
     Why am I different, why do I not fit, what is it about me that I am so alone, aching for a place that is not here. Tears torn from the wounded spirit, like a mountain stream full with spring melt; run as a river, from eyes hungry for home.
Stepping from the mists fully, once more placing my faith in grandfather?s guidance, trusting that the words would be given I open my lips to speak.

Copyright © 2001 Whispering Wind


     With arms wide, open heart, welcoming the spirits who would speak, I stand. Dove rests in open palm of left hand, in palm of right rest seeds of forever grain. Mother opens before us, the stream of life flows its healing waters across our beings. The elk and buffalo spirits add their strength to the wounded one who sits no more alone. Owl from tall oak adds his voice. We become as children in grandfathers' lodge, listening to the wisdom spoken on the wind. Flute of wind and wisdom played by gnarled hands of grandfather, sounds carried across mists of time, pour from my lips. Washes over heart, thirsty soul.
     Wolf with strength of purpose and wisdom of ancient brothers, spirit guides of the weavers of the blanket, comes closer. Adds his voice and great heart to the melody. Thunder drums beat loud, as sibling is wrapped in a warm embrace. Their thread once more gathered and weaved into the blanket of all nations.
   I feel your presence as I remove a lacing from my buckskin dress, tie your eagle feather to it, and with shaking hands slip a single bead from my pouch. Placing the turquoise bead on the lace and tying it around the neck of my sibling, I know that with each thread gathered, as the blanket is mended, so too is formed the bond between our spirits.

Copyright © 2001 Whispering Wind




Author's Note: Whispering Wind was written for my dear friend Tissi. Whispering Wind the author is me. I have posted it here just as it was originally posted online. I hope you enjoy the read.

Posted on 05/31/2003
Copyright © 2021 Kate Demeree

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Charles E Minshall on 06/02/03 at 03:21 AM

Very good reading Kate.....Charlie

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