Indian echo floating upon the breeze,
singing to my spirit of what used to be.
Ancestral chant carried through the cliffs,
my ancestors' souls upon the winds drift ~
singing still to the Earth Mother's power,
'neath the primal night's star-lit shower.
Beckoning my soul back to a time long ago
when great buffalo roamed prairies thru sun and snow.
The golden-eyed wolf, possessing such strength ~
his dignity and grace lost to the whiteman at length.
The great eagle and red-tailed hawk, warriors of the sky ~
listen to them close, they carry the ancestors' cry,
of prayers to the Great Spirit to once again be strong ~
to return to the land where they truly belong.
To walk among their brothers, the wolf and bear ~
regal nomads of the land by which they share
the Earth Mother's gifts, by which we all survive;
the right of everything to live side by side.
Indian echo, song of my spirit and heart ~
from the whiteman's ray race, back to a simpler start.
Chant to me softly, 'neath the crimson moon hight ~
leading me back to my ancestors' dreams I fly;
with hawk and eagle close at my side ~
the bear and wolf on night winds ride;
taking me back to my tribe of so long ago ~
back to the time of truths I've so longed to know.
12/15/99 © "Chelle"
Fantasy & Dreams Poetry
Darkside & Despair Poetry
Intimate Moments Poetry
Humanities & Inhumanities Poetry
Wildlife Inspirations Poetry
Lost Love & Memories Poetry
Simply Love Poetry
Random Thoughts Poetry
Vampyre Passions Poetry