Spider Woman's Children
Each day she cards wool,
She sings her song slowly for her sheep,
"House made of dawnMasani, Grandma's hogan sits alone
Near the lowly adobe bluffs.
Loneliness overtakes the desert lands
As the night crawls from the east.
Her heart lingers for companionship.
She soaks wool in the eyes of Spider Woman,
She pulls spindled threads
None of her twelve children ever returnWithout ears, they are like prairie dogs,
They don't understand her anymore and cry wants.
Each has lost her teachings and tongue.
Her mind wants to reach out
"Please, stay...talk to me, my grandchildren."
Coming from limbo beyond theInto the night her weaving comb
Locks her tears into the wefts of wool,
The much needed rain in the storm pattern rug.
Each night she cards wool,
Many thanks to the creator of this poem, Herschman John , for his kind permission to use it in our Folklore web pages. Please visit his site for more of his writings.
Editorial note: While I was searching for information to put this page up, I was touched very deeply by this sad story; it happens all too frequently.
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This page last updated: 16 May 2012
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