Thank you for this story
I hadn’t heard it before.
No, that’s a lie
This has been replaying on my screen
In flickers that resemble each other
A narrative played out
Teamed up
Well partnered
Associated
To such am extent
Neither author nor creator
Knows the other’s handshake.
This tribe is grown
This message is skewed
This enigma has suddenly appeared
And the great world wide
Has fallen in love
So that the trend may continue
Financing is available
But no credits due.
Tag: tribe
Moon at Midnight – Part XXVII (day 2001)
Around noon three U.S. Army men on horseback
Came into camp
They acted as if they owned this land
With their rifles in their hands
They set up a makeshift desk
And began taking down everybody’s name
And asking some of the weirdest questions
I’d ever heard people get asked
Especially for no apparent reason
And without consulting Mountain Chief
About the appropriateness of the whole ordeal
Mountain Chief I could see was confused
And really not sure what to do
He was a smart Chief
Not wanting to start a war with the U.S. Army
But he was a proud man too.
Nobody made too much fuss
But nobody was really too excited
To see men in uniforms there
They each had heard stories
Their suspicions only grew
As the tension grew from these army men
It was very hard for me to sit by
And watch as these U.S. Army men
Clearly disrespected my family
For no reason other then the colour of their skin
And their history.
They left peacefully
Giving little logical reasoning for the interrogation
And also no real thanks for everybody’s cooperation
I saw people looking at me afterwards
Hoping that I had some sort of answer
But I had no idea either
I sat with Mountain Chief and Moon Cow
And other elders of the tribe
Discussing what this meant
What rumors they had already heard
And what we would do
Mountain Chief said he would consult the other tribes again
See how they had been treated
I knew he didn’t want to align with either army
Canadian or U.S. or even Sioux or
Other Blackfoot that had started fighting
But I knew that he could sense change
Something that would change their lives forever
A change that he couldn’t control
No matter how many buffalo hides he had
Or how much water ran past his feet.
I sat up for a long time that night
With Willow by my side
I didn’t really know what to ask
Or how to answer anything
So I just sat silently
Watching our small fire burn away
Outside of our teepee
In the blanket that wrapped us together.
A Wander (day 1131)
Lost in my lagoon I wander warily.
I think of night’s last spoken words
Echoing deep within my soul;
Resonating lifeline which
I reach out to
And lay them at my idle feet
Asking what shall then be done:
“What maketh thou of thine?”
For all the steps into thy forth
I reach out to my moon,
I reach out and ask myself
Upon the soil I walk:
“For with my gaze
That I spend forth
Away, into thy soul,
Where have I lost my only choice,
Where have I lost my voice?”
With wisdom I have become
A speaking voice for my tribe,
That let alone, that with my own
Shall spread throughout the valley.
And in this valley
Of my own soul
I spread out up to the peaks
And let my voice
Echo deep, and find the lasting grace.
One Houndred Days (day 302)
We paddled and paddled
For one houndred days straight
Neither rest nor sleep
Was our friend all the while
We came about falls
We came about rapids
We came about bears
Finding winters warmth flapping
We passed by the furs
Of the coastal regions
We passed by the spruce
Of the swampier interiors
We passed by the pines
When the river twined
And we never complained
For our destination inclined
Not a single soul to speak
Not a diverting path to take
No energy was lost
In the battle we fought
We all had our children
Our warm wives back at home
But our socks they were warm when
Our backs they lay cold
Our knit caps, they
So red and so bold
We paddled until
Our paddles they broke
Then paddled some more
With the spares that we towed
And then, in the distance
As we pushed through the night
First one, then another
Then tens of houndreds they did burn
The fires of our friends
The fires of our family
The first of the First Nations
As they sat along the bank
Celebrating their season in the sun
The drums we had felt
Many days before
A pace threatening saunter
A force for our driving
As we came to the landing
We were swarmed by the tribe
We had always come here
We would always return
We were family here
We were friends here
This was our home
The land of the free
And after we shared
With the children all around
We welcomed the tribes men
We embraced our dear wives
We brought out our treasures
We had bargained for at the market
One houndred days paddling
One houndred days to the east
They sang songs for us
They sang songs with us
We brought out our fiddles
And we sang songs for them
We danced through the night
And we danced all the day
We hunted with the men
And we slept with the women
But then, when we saw
The leaves turning colours
We packed up our furs
And loaded our pelts
Carved out our paddles
And sorted our gear
Sad and long faces
As the morning progressed
We paddled on silently
Into one houndred days to the East
