a photograph by Sonja Bingen
Tag Archives: clouds
Sturgeon Bay Harbor
a photograph by Ethel Mortenson Davis
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Photography
Lake, Moss, Forest, Clouds, and Sky: A Reflection
a photograph by Sonja Bingen
Filed under Art, Photography
The Answer
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
“I could never
live in a place
where it doesn’t rain
and isn’t green.”
“It’s the same earth
that’s wrapped around
the great lakes,
just farther west
and south.”
“What do you see in it?”
“I see clouds hugging
the tall mountains and not
letting go.
I see the white rose
and purple blossom
existing in the dry land
because they are sacred.
I see the people
come outside and celebrate
with dance
in the eternal circle
when the rains finally
do come.”
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry
Sun, Clouds, Goose, and Reeds
a children’s poem by Thomas Davis
A dragon ate away the night!
Clouds, white from fear, fled through the sky.
A morning trumpet stormed to flight
As reeds lay silent, hushed and shy.
The sun burned red into sky-blue.
Great ships sailed white from burning sun.
A lonely goose with honking flew
Up from hushed pickets, slim and glum.
Filed under Poetry, Thomas Davis
The Message
by Ethel Mortenson Davis
The Sierra mountains
are home to the Kogi,
descendents of the Tairona,
an indigenous tribe of Columbia.
In 1514 a Spanish Conquistador
stood on the shores of what now
is Columbia and said to the Tairona,
“I will kill everyone of you
and bring every bad thing upon you.”
Some Tairona fled
to the high Sierra mountains,
and there they have lived
for five-hundred years.
“We descendents of the Tairona
have a message
for Younger Brother.
“You, Younger Brother,
who never listens,
are cutting up the Great Mother,
cutting out her kidneys and intestines
by digging for minerals and oil
and cutting the forests down.
“You are bringing the world
to an end–it will go black.
We have been to the tops
of the Sierra’s and have seen
the glaciers disappearing.
All the rivers from these
are drying up,
and soon the people will die.
“The Tairona have taken care
of the earth, but you,
Younger Brother, are killing
the Great Mother,
even selling the clouds.”
copyright, 
White Ermine Upon Her Shoulders, 2011.
Filed under Ethel Mortenson Davis, Poetry
fourwindowspress 