I wait and listen
As the mist rises
From the water
Drifting over my face
As I sit on
the table rock.
I hear the drums,
The singers and
The voices of
The ancient ones.
Stories are told me
In wisps of mist.
“Keep these stories buried in your heart,
and when you share them, remember,they do
not belong to you. Every word you speak
or write, has been spoken or written before.
Take no credit for those things which belong
to every one.
“One day the earth will groan with the pain
inflicted on her by the carelessness and
indifference of man. He treads the storehouses
of the Mother and pollutes her wells. Wherever
he walks he leaves the footprints of his greed.
“The day will come when you will stand proud.
Your face will show the strength of your red blood
and the words you speak and write will be those
given to you in the wisdom of the ancients.
Not your words, grandaughter, speak not your words.
“Look to the forests, the lakes, streams and ponds,
to the ocean, the skies and the soil for the words
to speak. In them, you will find the knowledge of the
ancients. Touch the trees, smell the dirt, bathe in
the ponds and they will fill you with their wisdom.
“Drink tea made from the pine and it will heal you along
with the healing herbs that grow abundantly in the fields
planted by the hand of our Creator. For each plant you dig,
you must leave three healthy ones to reproduce and provide
for years to come. Do not forget these lessons.
“There was a time when the gifts of the earth were free
for all men. Each person used only what they needed.
They did not store the water and sell it to their brother.
The Creator provided for all men, good and bad,
water to drink, food to eat, sun to warm and rain to clean.
“Speak these words to all who listen. Aho”
The Beauty of Poetry
Spirit of the Native American