They took their ponies onto the plains. We had let them live there as long as we could but the white men kept coming and it was not our place to stop them. The winds blew hard and it rained for a long time. And we wept in our teepees thinking about the air and freedom. Then one day it stopped and we saw the light was from the Gods and we took our ponies and we rode hard for three days. It was then that we saw our future and our end. For the white men had driven a curse through our lands and they came on like the winter snow. When we stopped and looked to the sky the snow came upon us like a blanket. And we lay down and stopped to speak. To speak is to listen and we no longer knew how to hear our Gods. It was just to say that we were weak. But somehow it didn't seem right. In that land at that time there was only one way to live and that was the way of the Sioux. And now I lay in my bed and wonder how that time came and went. It wasn't something I thought was true and the end. Living is easy when you have no fear and death comes and goes like the the passing of snow. But when you believe you believe for life. And until then the birds pass you by. I say to you now "Believe my friend for your life is the beginning and it is the end."
Copyright © Stephen Kilmer | Year Posted 2016