The Ballad of Red Feather

Pretty like the crystalline canyon rocks - Fair like a deer wandering in the morn' - With the Great Spirit as a faithful witness A baby girl named Red Feather was born And for her onyx eyes and ruddy cheeks An angel was sent with kisses to adorn. Her misery began with John Martin - A white trader of uncouth demeanor Who took one day a Navajo woman As payment for whiskey and gunpowder And soon his bride realized an inheritance But in so doing died young in labor. Red Feather lived - lived with a cruel father Who cursed her and of her did not boast - Withholding not his friends who laughed at her And was ignored by passersby the most - Irretrievably lost between two worlds That scorned red highlights and native clothes Until one day when grief overwhelmed her - She ran away - against the blinding tears - Where else but to the village of her mother But discovered that they too made jeers At the sight of her and there enslaved her And instead of love - realized her worst fears. But solace found Red Feather at moments When she'd steal away to Spirit Canyon To gaze upon the weathered petroglyphs. Silence touched her heart every now and then As she'd sit among the lonely rifts And consider the Earth with the heavens. There among them was one where an artist Told of the wish of an ancient warrior To jump the cliff and join the gentle spirits That captured Red Feather's awe in particular And since the life ahead held not her interest She soon desired him and her mother So it happened during one nice spring day: The wildflowers breezed as she took the path - Eagles circled above her at midday And Red Feather stood on the edge with wrath - Embraced the sky and Sun and leapt away - Seeking what the next world might have. Since that time many a wayward Navajo And traveler alike claim to have seen Red Feather come to them - white with glow - And swear wholly it was not of a dream But that she lives - she lives as a ghost Wandering along the cliffs and beneath. So should you come to Navajo Country Look sharp - Red Feather's spirit takes flight. She may run silently with a clan of coyotes Or dance in the shadows of your firelight. She may be the breeze that blows softly Or the silver mist that rises at night.