the Sioux Warrior

Maureen Bloesch

Putnam Valley, United States

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Written by Dawnsky2
This night was calm and still. Above the treetops the stars spoke to one another of times past. The Moon Spirits silver light rested on my shoulder and bathed my soul. Alone was I and becoming at one with the nature.
The orange flicker of the small fire I had made to help me on my quest, held my eyes at its centre. A warm homely feeling fluttered in my stomach and crept slowly to my heart, where it stayed. The crackle and spit of damp wood burning comforted me, my shoulders loosened, I sighed deeply.

Resting softly on the palm of my hand was the Crow feather, many of the barbs had parted, rendering it aged and worn. Gently, between my thumb and fore finger I stroked these barbs. Never would they sit together again, but its appearance didn’t matter, it was what it stood for that mattered to me.

I closed my eyes and reflected upon a distant memory, one that seemed to be all around me, one that drifted silently upon a fond breeze, and hovered above me with the strength and gracefulness of the Hawk. I knew I would stay strong under his wing.
With the warmth in my face and the smell of my little fire, I was whisked away and a memory brought to the fore. In that instance I had gently slipped, to a Nation elapsed.

Upon that fond breeze, furthermost from my minds eye, and shrouded in the finest mist, came a fluttering of feathers. I watched in anticipation as they grew ever closer, ever larger. The Crow feather in my hand became warm to hold, and trembled as if in expectancy of meeting old friends.
Across the mountains to the left, came the familiar light air that would touch my soul; it weaved toward me, with gentle strokes that settled on my face. With it, came the sound of drums beating the rhythm of life, carried on timeless winds.

For me the beating drums seemed distant, yet so near, and in my very soul I knew what they were. They were the many beating hearts, of my Ancestors. They would come to Guide me, to walk with me, to teach and show me. A tender blanket of protection draped over my being, wrapping around my very spirit, keeping me warm and safe.

And the Spirits of nature spoke.
The Forest of tallest trees heard the beating drums and answered in hushed voices, promising to shelter, promising to provide food and sustain the life within.
Wild horses on the plain heard them. In one huge body they galloped at great speed, the thundering of their hooves echoed in the stillness of this night. Their power emanating from the great strength held in their bodies and spiritual souls.
I glanced down; the coolest most refreshing water touched my bronzed toes. I traced its source with my minds eye. Along the river, women gathered precious water for their families to drink, to nourish their crops and water their animals. More valuable to them was this water,
The Water of Life, than the yellow stone often found in the river. Before my very eyes the crystal waters, so pure and true, turned red. Despair filled my heart and as if something knew I was not ready for this insight, the water instantly became fresh and clear, all but my face and the Crow feathers in my hair reflected upon the rippling surface.
Behind me, in their rustling spirit voices, the trees warned me of a predator, the wolf. I turned to see his cunning eyes lock upon me. He held his head low. I felt sure he thought I would not see him hiding there, but I did and as by some strange understanding that had passed between us, he turned and walked away. Stopping only once, to look back at me.

All of a sudden the mists came. The Moon began to fade. The horses thundered away into the dust created by their many hooves, the women walked from their river and became absent. The Forest around me became silent and the Hawk flew back to distant skies.
The only thing that was left was a true feeling of my Ancestors, standing at my side for always, to Guide me, to walk with me and show me.

With heavy lids, my eyes opened. My fire had all but gone, just a solitary wisp of smoke slowly ascended, I watched it curl around unseen objects before dispersing.
Through the trees the Sun rose, bringing the earth below alive once again.
A new day had begun, I cradled the insights of a Nation elapsed in my innermost core.
I still held the Crow feather gently in my hand, but now instead on just one, I had two.
Written by Dawnsky2,
for “the Sioux Warrior”

Artwork Comments

  • richardredhawk
  • Maureen Bloesch
  • Dawnsky2
  • Maureen Bloesch
  • hilarydougill
  • Maureen Bloesch
  • handprintz
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  • Lynn Bawden
  • Maureen Bloesch
  • Lynn Bawden
  • Maureen Bloesch
  • brirose55
  • Maureen Bloesch
  • bevanimage
  • Maureen Bloesch
  • Gary L   Suddath
  • Maureen Bloesch
  • blamo
  • Maureen Bloesch
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