Tribal Gypsies
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His voice is as a still whisper, a hushed sigh
Rippling through the evergreen mountain pines,
A spiritual being calls in native tongue, come unto
Me, my chosen people of the sacred plains.
The drums beat in the setting sun, as the tribes
Join together in one bands march, the Dakota, Shoshoni
And Cherokee, these wondering nomads, of the open plains.
It is time for the great migrational transitioning,
Heeding the great spirits, seasonal warning,
These tribal gypsies, become a unified people, of the vast
United beneath the vast grasslands Prairie.
Instincts driving force urges them ever forward,
Across steeps terrain, and rolling hills, deep canyons
Depths divides, onto the open plains,
For soon the great buffalo will arrive.
To bowl and cup, do they carry all possession
Necessities, leaving behind only Mohicans prints,
In the dust.
Legacy's children play, and run beside the caravan's,
As warriors on horse back, boast of adventures
Of seasons long ago.
Mile markers of trails woven into the earth itself,
The wilderness wild country lies ahead, in this big
North American Continent, yet undiscovered by
The so called civilized white men.
At night falls rest, a small village emerges, where
Nothing stood sense last years grand journey.
Canvas tents, fill with families warmth and laughter
For freedoms people, live by the great spirits calling.
In ritual dance, do these indigenous tribe give thanks
And praise unto he whom provides substances life,
And liberation’s autonomy.
As the suns rises and dawn approaches, the earth rumbles,
Shaking, beneath the hardened hoof, thy brother the buffalo,
Has come once again, the promise kept, assuring
The tribes winter survival.
Evergreen's pastures, lure these creatures of thunder,
Ancient beasts covering the great plains, as a black
Cloud descending, as if massive locus’s onto
The flowering fields below.
The hunters rejoice in the abundance set before
Them, the harvest of meat and blessings promise,
Taking only what is needed, wasting nothing,
Yet giving thanks praise for everything.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Copyright © Cherl Dunn | Year Posted 2014
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