The Storyteller


In the natural wild,
as my untethered mind traces
the fiery curves of bounding clouds above,
a primal spirit races past the blackening heavens
and laces my thoughts with memory,
an idea from the earliest of human time,
formed in the rumbling thunder of an approaching storm
as darkness had obscured the blazen sun
wherein our ancestral story of a god was born.


Ages ago, on one moonlit eve,
once we had hunted and we had gathered
and all labor for the day complete,
we assembled round a great crackling fire to feast
and told the stories of gods and beasts that we’d imagined
to satisfy our curiosities and pacify the uncertainties
of our early world.

We told of a provisional god
who wept the rains for life,
and of a punishing god
who howled and scowled with winds and thunder and flash;
and of a compassionate god
who filled the sky with warmth and light,
and so on and so on the stories went
until sense could be made of the natural wild.

And year upon year, after every hunt and gather,
the Storyteller who had inspired us best
was asked by all, to tell it all again,
to entertain us in those late hours before sleep,
where our heavy eyes would see shadows leap behind dancing flames,
with the story of a god who made the thunder and the sun
who made the earth and the moon and man,
and soon these words became the dreams and the memories
of a people.


As I peer today across the mountain tops
and into the blackening heavens,
as darkness obscures the blazen sun
and thunder rumbles of an approaching storm,
I see what we saw then, and feel what we felt when
the first tales of god were dreamed
and I remember .

by Jason Weaver

Author’s Note: This photo-poem was submitted as part of an open link poetry exposition at D‘verse Poet’s Pub. Come check it out!
Note: After publication, I changed the word “They [told]” to “We [told]”  ~Jason


12 thoughts on “The Storyteller

  1. oo very nice…the story teller is a magical person…spinning the tales…passing the history forward of people groups….the last bit is rather ominous…to see what they saw…and see what is coming…

    • I hadn’t considered the ominous quality to the last lines– and yet, how could I have not now that you say it! I just love the idea of a storyteller– I think I secretly want to be one someday!

      Thanks as always for the feedback, Brian. ~peace, Jason

  2. This is lovely Jason, both picture and retelling of stories of how things around us, came to be. Before the printed word, before the computer, all were words, told and retold, real or imagined, they enthralled us.

    Love the beauty of nature and tales in your words ~

  3. Thanks for stopping by, its always great to see a new face who is prepared to leave comment/feedback.
    I don’t know if you are aware of the Earths Children series of books by a writer named Jean Auel. I have read them a few times now and this piece took me right back there once more. Those stories talk of mankinds early days in continental Europe and the struggles to survive. The first 5 books were fantastic, but I felt the 6th let her down badly. So to be taken on an adventure back to those times is a very pleasant journey for me.
    I thank a true storyteller for taking me back to a place in time I have not been to in sometime now.

    • Thanks as well for taking the time to give feedback as well. I’m not familiar with the series or author, but they sound awesome. Really, the stories of early man are OUR stories, OUR struggles. I am surprised that our modern cultures don’t include these ideas more in our worlview. I’m glad you enjoyed the journey. ~Peace, Jason

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