Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Ancient Warrior by Brenda Meier-Hans

I see the wrinkles in your suntanned brow, You carried burdens then; you see them now. You’ve heard the cries your people who in pain, Have shed their tears two hundred years like rain. Your sad brown eyes, reflecting now the sky Beside you stands an Appaloosa mare I see the wings of eagles flying by Her spirit one with you now over there. Your spirit drawn the beats they ring so clear. You hear the drums, they bid you to come near, Song like prayers are chanted through the night, You join the prayers with both arms open wide, Calling you come, and help them end their plight. You’ve heard sad cries and now stand at their side, United spirits sing until the dawn, The lakes and streams flowing with waters clear, When in the fire’s flames a golden fawn. Remembering a smile crosses your face, When tribes were one with Mother Nature’s grace. Flow sadly now, the planet lives in fear. While here on earth your people rearrange. The weightless feathers that adorn your head Your tribes grey future weighed you down instead. Now breathing deep you smell the winds of change.

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