A Prose Poem
It was on this river that once flowed, her parent’s blood. She would never forget the image in her mind, of them running towards the river, screaming and praying, when the rifles rang out. Her parents went face down in the water, while she hid in the bushes. The white’s idea of war, included women and children. The did not fight like men. Even Grandfather died when his heart gave out.
The question was, now what, after 20 years? She didn’t like the white minister, he was always saying things that made people feel bad, but he did say one thing she liked. It was about forgiveness. As she watched the river flowing over the rocks, she was asking herself, could she? Could she no longer be angry and forgive?
She did learn that not all whites were evil, only some. Some were also for peace. She liked the people of the Quaker Tribe, they had love in their hearts. Some of the women even reminded her of her mother. She looked intently at the water. There was something here, something calling her, perhaps the Creator. But she could not, she just could not forgive. She prayed for strength, and decided she would try again tomorrow.
Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree
image from google
Peace and blessings to everyone.
“If you love nature, you will love people.”