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Four Winds

(From a Mapuche sacred chant)

North Wind lights up
the ancient forge of Summer,
where time goes to temper moons
west of sunsets.

East Wind
ruffles brush-woods,
branches of caldens creak
like lies of old devils
in the midst of a storm.

Patron of snows,
South Wind lends its tones
to hoary winter;
Patagonia watches it blow fiercely
under the fleece of lambs.

It’s beautiful when West Wind blows
from the cordillera,
it flattens grasslands into soft carpets
and sculptures mounds of pebbles.

Review Request (Intensity): 
I appreciate moderate constructive criticism
Review Request (Direction): 
How does this theme appeal to you?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Last few words: 
Mapuche: mapu = earth, che = people. Earth People
Editing stage: 
Content level: 
Not Explicit Content

Comments

peaceful... thank you! where is the fourth wind?

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Raywhitakerblog.wordpress.com
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Hi Ray, I'm glad you find it peaceful. The four winds are there, though perhaps as it's the S.H., it confuses you. We're now getting near Spring, next month. The tradition is that each wind, N, S, E, W brings on new beginnings, sounds, feelings and so on. For the Mapuche tribe, the whole Earth is sacred.
Thanks for visiting and commenting, best Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

Dear Teddy, thanks for visiting and commenting. Glad you like it. We have plenty of snow where I live. This has been wonderful for international tourism, but nobody has come, of course. A tremendous loss of money and jobs. I also enjoy walking in the snow, but I don't ski. Patagonia is an all year tourism area, in summer there's fishing, kayaking, trekking, you name it. The lakes, waterfalls and rivers are splendid. I could go on forever...lol.
All the best, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment

I like the simplicity, primal instincts, and color of culture that blind so effortless here.

T

The most powerful reaction
of mind on mind
is transference of sight

Hi tyro, so glad you visited and like my poem. Yes, it's primal, about indigenous people and their beliefs. The ones in Patagonia have always been Earth lovers, to this day. When they pick a bread fruit, for example, from a tree, they thank the tree for providing food for them. Mountains, volcanos, water, all is sacred to them.
All the best you, Gracy

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"My soul is painted like the wings of butterflies; fairy tales of yesterday will grow but never die, I can fly, my friends.” – Freddie Mercury

author comment
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