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Poem
these are the words of a seeker of light
a believer in the knowledge of old
through our fathers we reach a new height
from their lives, and the stories they've told

we must never forget, or sunder the ties
that binds us all to our past
for that is where our virtue lies
honoring them, our Nations will last

the river is calling out to be free
and the sky, is where it's spirit will fly
now, i hear the gentle voice of the tree
gathering the winds, as they go by


the fish in the river frolic with the bait
as our men on the bank strive to catch some
they seldom see them, yet still they wait
landing a few, whose time has come

the dog is silent, and watching for now
the beaver is home dry, and resting
we could be as free, if we knew how
to ride lifes wave to its' cresting

there are birds on the water, and some overhead
they float, or soar, with the ease of belonging
each content to live where God has led
feeling no sense of lacking, or longing

deer come down to the shallows to drink
then return, to lay again in the shade
they have no reason for fear, they think
knowing somehow, our meals are all made

i look to my poeple, and see reflections of me
listen to the shouts, of the children at their game
i am at peace, and the spirits agree
this land and our TREASURE, are one and the same

we've cars now, and jobs for the taking
and fierce pride in anscestors long gone
ours is a "new" life, of our own making
and our Fathers are still with us, as we go on

living this life that we love
with peace, and harmony in the sharing
looking always to God above
for He is "Creator", alive, and still caring

as long as our Mother, this land, is still somewhere
and Wakan Tonka (?) lives in my heart
then where i am,  He is there
nobility, honor, pow'r and love cannot part

all this concrete, these people, so different from me
that surrounds, and closes off my horizons
all the baubles, light, shadows, trinkets, and wares that i see
can't seperate me from  the Wise Ones

they are only proof that i'm free

and i can still go home
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