Vin Tanner - The Indian

by Chris

Disclaimer: All the characters of MAG7 belong to MGM etc… No profit is made from this poem except a lot of fun.

Dedication: I dedicate this humble poem to Stormm, Lynda ,Jo , Jan and of course to Sandy (SD).

 Note: The mountains in the collage are my beloved Dolomites.

Acknowledgment: As usual a thanks from the depth of my heart to my beta, TJ.

Feedback: As usual no bullets, please.

Vin Tanner – The Indian

I thread the shining day,
The high mountains as in play
Dizzily turning
My wild road round and round.

And where it goes
To reach the lonely plain, well, I don’t know.

So I may vanish in a day
In some untraveled fold of this wide space
And there pursue my patient way
Yet never come to any place.

Through forest wide and deep
Through lonely canyons
I pass in as in a sleep,

Wearing the silver scars
Of wandering, dying stars
Forgotten long,

And looking back
I see that all behind is pined and shrunken,
The great plain smaller,
The trail narrow and poor,
Burned and thorn
Where the tall teepees offered me shelter
And warmth.

And on the drift the earth and myself
Are of one mind
And my future is a blur
For I have no power to draw aside
The veil of the unborn time.
But the wind and the distant howl
Of the wolf are my guide and my help,
And all the roads lie free before me,
Limpid and clear like dreams,
For like the Indian I’m wild and unbound,
Like him I pass from place to place
In a wandering light pace,
No memory of beginning no sign of end.

And from myself I’m led.

Where no white man never went
Is my domain,

There the thick grass and the distant sky are the same.
But quiet, deeper than I had ever breathed
And I walk in firm trust,

For my free will can master my pale soul,
Giving it the strength to find
The place to which I was sent.