Friday, April 25, 2008

Other Voices

This is a photo of my dad and his six sisters.

The following is one of Dad's poems that I have always liked, but which now has even more meaning for me. When we join together at the Celebration of Life, we who have been nurtured by Dad and Sage will have an opportunity to tell their stories.

Other Voices

All day I listened to the mountains
wishing they would speak to me
but they answered only with silence
until I walked out among them,
great council of chiefs,
and they spoke to me with many voices.
Chatter of squirrel, whisper of wind,
scream of hawk, leap of trout,
a startled deer's shrill whistle,
and the river's constant laughter.
At last I understood that our story,
like the mountains',
is told best by other voices;
the voices of those we nurture.

--Dennis Faulkner


Serinekat said...

Jessie - I didn't realize your father had SIX sisters! Poor guy! I bet growing up was tough with all those nutty ladies around! I have a whole new respect for the man.


It's Time to Live... said...

I like this poem, it is what I feel sometimes as well. Thanks.