Most poets compose poetry. Alisha transcribes poetry. It comes to her at odd times and she must get it written immediately or the poetry is gone. Some of the poetry in this book has been published in one of her other four chap books. They suited the theme of the Earth Mother. She has been published in the quarterly magazine, "Poems of the World" As a performer with Natica Angilly's Poetic Dance Theater Company, she has danced across the USA, Europe, China and Taiwan. The company always performed to poetry. Travels and dancing has inspired her poetry.
The following poems are taken from Alisha's book, Children, Listen! The Earth Mother Speaks, copyrighted and published in 2010.
TSUNAMI
Tide goes out Beach is bare - silent A roar rips through the air Ground shakes A tower of water races to shore Trees crack and fall Houses crumble People scream Get caught in the massive wave Are swept through the debris teapots, dead animals, cars, wood Hang onto whatever Hope for rescue Water recedes Deathly silence People look for families Some are gone - never to return Children cry Devastation across the land The dead are everywhere Must be buried People put up shelters Help comes from around the world Water - food - clothes - medicine People of all faiths pull together We are all brothers and sisters One family under God Now is the time of renewal Much work to do The people will persevere Move forward, build But the people will never forget The world will never be the same again SPIRIT BEAR
A white bear sits in a tree The rain forest is serene He views the lush meadow below Silent and free of man He is the Spirit Bear Sent by Raven To watch over planet earth. A reminder of the creation, the beginning times When all was white and clean
TA BU CE
She was called "Maggie" by tourist, Her tribal name was Ta bu ce. She wasPiaute, lived as an Ahwaneeche within the Ahwanee. It means "deep grassy valley" - The white man calls it Yosemite She gathered grasses and reeds to weave into baskets of beauty and light for tourist to buy. She sat under the tall cedar and oak trees as she worked, Spoke with friends of the old ways now gone. With sad voices they talked of the young ones who leave the valley to live in big cities. The young who scoff at the weaving of baskets. Ta bu ce got pneumonia one cold November day, while gathering grasses for her beloved baskets She left the beautiful Yosemite that winter to meet her ancestors. A new generation walks with pride once again on the land of the great Ahawanee, educating people in the ways of the "old ones" They speak of Ta bu ce with reverence ... weave baskets once again for tourist Ta bu ce's baskets are in the museum for all to see, displayed on shelves behind shinny glass. Baskets woven by talented fingers, to serve the people of the tribe, to sell to tourist Baskets that tell a history of a people. Baskets ... Baskets of beauty and light. TORNADO
Whirling, Swirling The dark funnel rips across the sky Dust and debris fill the air Roofs and walls collapse Fly off with the wind Houses gone, people hurt What now? What now? Haiti All is quiet, suddenly the earth trembles, shakes, Buildings topple Looters roam the crumbled streets The dust in the air is stifling No one feels safe There is terror upon the land. . Volunteers dig the rubble looking for survivors Many perish Some are saved. Once again people of the world. mobilize, rush to bring needed supplies. After shocks bring more devastation. The world seems bleak. People huddle together for comfort and strength. Say prayers. They will survive, but at what cost?
