Cry Like A Savage

A Poem by Joshua Stelling

The bowstring as a metaphor

For a soul to be released

A feather shed in wind

The shape of a wild eye

A sisterhood of the beast

An arrow as a metaphor

Its ribs against her skin

The mare as if to fly

She rides like a native through a forest on fire

In a night like a sorrow

A storm of ash swirling in the wake

Of this mankind who is blind

She cries like a savage for the souls released

Many ends of tomorrow

The horizon a storm of sand

White lies, justice rise

Don’t fear the hand of time, child

The bear cub as a metaphor

For power in retreat

A new dawn to begin

The shape of a wild eye

The only way to see

The rainstorm is a metaphor

Drinking it all in

Comes mother from the sky

She flies like a fire from an arrow released

In a night like a sorrow

Two storms clash, lightning wakes

Womankind who will find

Crying out like a savage in a forest on fire

For all these ends of tomorrow

And the rain becomes a torrent

To answer this ancestral wish

Don’t fear the hand of time, child

The bowstring is its metaphor

You are the feather, light, wild

You are the arrow, the beast, but more

You are the rainstorm beating back the fire

You are the mother riding into the storm

You are the spirit of the trees untired

You are the voice of the Earth given form

You are the truth in the shape of an eye

Of a bear hidden deep in the brown of the leaves

Bristled fur, risen blood, reflected fire

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