Poetry n Prose 4

Columbia River Creation

~ Tomas O Carthaigh

When walking, Coyote demanded all

And shade as the day was hot

And so a cloud formed to give him shade

But he was contented not

And so he demanded more clouds and rain

Which formed and gave torrents of showers

Which swept Coyote off his feet

And he nearly drowned in the water's powers.

So started the Columbia River

All from a little need

Of a little shelter from the heat granted

And more demanded from greed.

Old Crow Brings Daylight

~ Tomas O Carthaigh

Old Crow, who daylight had seen

And to the Inuit of it spoke

Of a land where he had been – they did not believe –

Not covered by darkness cloak.

And the people bade him to get some

Chase away the darkness they knew

And though old he said he’d try

And for daylight through the darkness flew.

It nearly took him, the journey

When on a tree he stopped to rest

He saw a girl at a stream for water

And thought to himself blessed.

To a speck of dust he formed himself

And settled upon her clothes

To be a feather may have been nicer

But to be noticeable would be dangerous I'd suppose.

She went back to her tepee

Where her son played on the floor

And the speck of dust jumped to his ear

So it could find daylight some more

A ball of which was by the child

The speck of dust whispered in his ear

“Play with the ball, cry for it,

Wail loud and shed tear.”

The grandfather did the bidding of the crying child

As he tried to pacify the child’s crying

And the more he gave, the more the child asked

As prompted by the Crow as dust in his ear replying.

The child demanded to go outside

The mother did not want this at all

But the grandfather, wiser, bid do as demanded

Let the child out with the ball.

On seeing the daylight, out from the ear popped the dust

Reformed itself again as a crow

Seized the ball of light, took to the skies

Back to the North Land of Darkness did go.

The Inuit looking in the distance

Saw the light and gave shouts of glee

And praised the brave and wise old Crow

Who of Darkness made them free.

The ball smashed upon the ground

And the light spread all around

The colors of leaves and trees could now be seen

The fish in the river found.

“Alas” said Crow, “there are two balls

In the land where I have gone

Each lasts half a year

And I brought only one.”

It then must rest for six months before it burns again

It’s the best that I could do

It's far to far to go again

I can do little more for you.

“Mind you not,” the people replied

“You gave us more than you ever will know.”

And that is why the Artic has six months of light

All thanks to Wise Old Crow.