Field of Compromise
There is a field called Compromise;
I will meet you there.
To talk over our differences;
A feather of friendship, I wear.
I will listen to all;
That you have to say.
You listen the same to me;
We talk in a good way.
When two warriors;
Can come to understand.
We unite for our peoples;
All across these ancient lands.
A promise made;
To do battle no more.
Putting aside past bouts;
No longer keeping score.
A treaty of peace;
It is a new day.
From this day forward;
May it forever be this way.
I cast my anger;
To the ground.
It no longer serves me well;
I lay my war staff down.
I accept your pipe in friendship;
And offer it up towards the skies.
May Great Spirit keep sacred;
The field called Compromise.
By: Darlene Doll Smith
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