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