The Flute Sings, a Dakotah Tribute
Through closed eyes, I see what has become of your land.
I hear flutes, blessings drifting across a land filled with
highways and stoplights, never silenced.
Through closed eyes, I see children screaming and running,
smoke from soldier's muskets settling upon their fallen bodies.
Through closed eyes, your drums still beat, Warriors still dance,
and strength of your Elders lives on.
Through closed eyes, flutes are heard,
and Spirits
never die.
Minnesota
12/26/12
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