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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.

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