Echo of Time…

My great-grandmother predicted

of Earth’s changing seasons, there

would be snow in summer and heat

in winter; the changes in the world

are for many reasons.

She told of the spirits that ride upon

the winds of time, who told of living

things that we would someday no

longer see; and as a people… no

human would be free.

In the stillness of the night, I listen,

to the singing of hope; is it too late,

is it gone; then I hear nothing all is

silent.

Great-grandmother, a Chickasaw

whose parents walked the Trail of Tears,

believed that one day the people of this

world would live in fear.

I hear her chants; the music of her flute,

my soul believes that in her prophecy

she spoke truth.

I listen for her whispers within my soul;

her voice continues to speak to me her

faith alive; and through troubled moments

we walk side by side, and I hear the in the

echo of time and her voice telling me to

survive.

©2013.annjohnsonmurphree

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