"Trail of Tears"

Making a path,

Making a road,

In darkness, in warmth,

And even in cold.

Striving,

Not thriving,

Just barely surviving.

A journey so harsh,

A journey so frightening.

Trampling trees, and brush on our way,

As minutes, then hours, turn into days.

At night, all is still,

But there’s no time to rest,

For traveling in darkness is usually best.

Few creatures are stirring here in the gloom,

Perhaps they all feel the terror that looms.

Who are we?

Making journeys alone,

With dark copper skin;

With no longer a home?

Marching forever, with shaking knees,

O’er deserts, in valleys, through forests and seas;

Swimming ‘cross lakes so deep and so wide,

Feeling more tired with every stride.

It seems as though every good place is taken;

We've traveled so far, we feel so forsaken.

I've seen skies so blue, and rain pour from clouds,

When can we settle? 

Are we even allowed?

The sun, it makes us feel secure and warm,

Though we've traveled and trekked, through countless storms.

Happiness always feels just out of reach,

We've hoped and we’ve prayed for some quiet and peace.

Searching for shelter, for warmth, for wood,

We'd stop, and we’d rest, if only we could.

Nobody hears us.

Nobody cares.

All that they give us are nasty stares.

We were called stupid, we were forced and shoved,

No choice but to flee from the home we once loved.

Seems like we've walked for many long years,

As we travel along this, our Trail of Tears.

Secrets, a poem by Riley

Photo by Riley at Crystal Bridges art museum, January 2015

Do you know the secrets of the pink blossom trees?

Do you know the secrets of the warm spring breeze?

Do you know the secrets of the fairies who care?

And have you ever wondered at whom the owl stares?

Why do the birds talk in song?

Have you ever wondered what could have gone wrong?

Have you ever seen a wolf howl in the day?

Have you ever seen a winter owl dance in May?

All the songs and secrets of the creatures in the wood,

Would you like to know them? That is, if you could.

From the lions to the birds to the wolves to the sheep,

All their secrets are forever so deep,

Hidden in our hearts is where we will find,

Search your soul, and search your mind.

The pixies help plants,

So do the ants.

All the animals work together,

No matter the cost, no matter the weather.

They sing songs, and dance, and rhyme,

The daylight fades at day’s end each time.

The animals in the woods, the animals in the sea,

They are all so dear to me.

Nature is a gift, treasure it with your soul,

Now you know the secrets no one has ever known.

Sun and Moon, a poem by Riley

Photo by Riley at Crystal Bridges art museum, January 2015

In the night, the stars and moon shine so bright. 

What can the sun do?

The sun, in the day, makes all the animals play. 

What can the moon do?

The moon is asleep at noon, in the day when animals play, 

But sleep, sleep so deep, 

gives them rest to haul and heave for their life that is so precious to them. 

What can the white clouds do? 

The clouds make everyone wow, in awe, 

At their lightness, at their whiteness and shade; 

For they are beautifully made. 

What can the stars do? 

At night, it is not so bright, so you can slip past anyone, 

And monster are asleep as well, and animals are under a sleepy spell.

And the horses dance into your dreams,

They follow  the stars, at a steady speed.

What can the day do?

Without the day it would be gray,

Without green grass and trees,

With every sunny season,

There is a warm breeze

What can the night do?

The night, more than alright,

Has a breeze of its own,

Whispering, “Goodnight”

To all the creatures in the realm.

What does light bring?

The light, better than night,

It can help you see,

The light can help you have fun,

And play with lots of glee.

What does the dark bring?

The owls and wolves howl at the moon,

Because the dark is their home.

The dark, in it,

You can play hide and seek,

Out where the raccoons roam.

The dark and light, the sun and moon, 
The sun, which makes all the flowers bloom,

But the night, the moon, have a secret of their own, 
One so deep, we will never know.