Sunday, November 11, 2012

I Say Goodbye Again...a poem


I originally wrote this poem in May of 2009. Now in 2012, I think it is as pertinent  as it was then. In memory of all those who served.
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I wanted to write a poem especially for Memorial Day. I appreciate all of our troops around the world.  However, I also wanted to pay tribute to those who they left behind. This is something that all families can relate to no matter where they live in the world. This particular poem was inspired by my Maternal Grandfather who served in WWII (survived I might add) and left his family behind. It was also inspired by Mark's dad, Ralph R. who also served.
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I Say Goodbye Again
By: Michelle R. aka Naila Moon of the Grey Wolf
I said goodbye to you
And kissed you on your cheek
You were off to war
And we couldn't hardly speak.

You told me not to worry
That you would be home soon
And you hoped some great guys
Would be in your platoon.

I got all your letters
And cherished each and every one
Just hoping for the day
That you could see
Your new born son.

Then one rainy morning
On a Sunday afternoon
I received a telegram
That told the story
Of your death too soon.

The purple heart arrived
In testament to your valor
I hold it close to me
And cry at this very hour.

For now, I must kiss you
And say goodbye again,
To my husband, my love,
And my eternal friend.



Monday, November 5, 2012

Turn Around...a story


I come from the Cherokee Nation and was inspired by the words "Turn Around" to write the following story. It is based off of some truths but is mostly fictional on my part.
I should say this is also based off of the truth of the Trail of Tears or as my people say, The Trail We Cried On.
Believe me when I say, I respect my people and respect what happened to them and remember with them.

 Please note: although right now I feel finished with the story as it is, I might in the future revamp it.
Peace-Naila Moon of the Grey Wolf

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Turn Around By Michelle R. aka Naila Moon of the Grey Wolf 

I tightly hugged the blanket that Grandfather, Winks At Rabbit, made for me. It was special and meant only for me to have. No one could possibly take this from me; I needed it as I would grow up to be woman.

Why did these men, these strangers want it? What would they do with it?  I was not sure.  

Sure enough, they took my blanket, ransacked our home and pushed us out the door. My mother, in native tongue begged them not to take us but yet, they did. Where were we going? Again, I was not sure. 

 It was cold out, for winter had already set it. We were given nothing and could take only little, which were mainly the clothes on our back.  The old and the young were pushed together. Some had no shoes, some were separated from family and all were pushed forward. I did not have my blanket.  

We were told that we would be going on a long journey, a journey of almost a thousand miles. This was a journey that would take us from our beloved lands, from our rivers, from our homes and from our ancestors. We were Cherokee and we would have to leave. We would have to walk and walk and walk.  

We walked upon the trail that was supposed to lead us to a new place. A place supposedly reserved for us to live. A place that was not our own. Many of my people could not take this journey and thousands died.  Grandfather, Winks At Rabbit was one of those, for he was very old.   We could not stop to mourn him for if we did, we would also soon die. 

I could not understand why we had to walk so far, why we had to starve. I asked my mother why we did not turn around and go back home.  She could not tell me for I was young and would not understand.  

So we kept walking and we cried.