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A few things that bring a happy song to my heart

Some Links you might be interested in

My Paintings & Photos
Consheba- Spirit Women Healer
Hawk Flying
Tracie Blood Poetry
Spirit Scents Native American Post Cards
Rasky's Vietnam Memorial
Out There..Poem, Music & Pictures
Wakan Tanka
Impossible Dream

The picture at the top of the page is from Spirit Scents.
The beautiful Native graphics are from "SilverHawks Creations".

~~Michael's Room~~


"Harmony, balance, strength, meditation, introspection, healing, dreams, visions, wisdom, and listening. This is the Medicine of Bear. Bear is very strong. If you are feeling weak, or need and impressive, authoritative presence, call upon the power of bear to aid you. Bear teaches us that healing begins with ourselves. Bears spend a good portion of each year in hibernation. This gives their bodies time to heal. In some species the kidneys shut down. This gives the bear time to heal and waste no precious reserves. Bear reminds us to take time out for ourselves. If we do not meditate, how can we rightfully tell others to do so? If bear has lumbered into your life, it is certain that you have the gift of insight, healing, and dreams. If you are having a difficult time accessing these gifts, it could be that you have forgotten to take time for yourself. The example of Bear is simple-heal you first. By your example, other can learn to heal themselves also."


I sincerely hope you enjoy the poems, pictures and paintings. I have also included some poems from a friend and dear sister. I would appreciate your feed back, and please come back again!

About ME ~~~~~"A Young Warrior and Lover"~~~~~

Born September 27th 1946, raised in Wisconsin, USA. Married on October 10th 1970 and still going strong. I served my country in Vietnam, and have survived 5 different cancer attacks. I am the oldest of four brothers and two sisters. My Mother and Father have passed on. For as long as I can remember my heart has found tears, and great strength in the Native American Culture. Their respect for nature and love of harmony has always touched my spirit. As well as their struggle to reclaim what once was there’s and must be again. "The Seventh Generation". I am retired, but do volunteer work by visiting cancer patients in near by hospitals. That is why I was given the name StrongBearRedHeart. Some things that will get the hair up on the back of my neck are any kind of abuse to women, children or animals. Two of my passions are painting landscapes and animals and also writing poems and stories. I Love to travel; Southwest, Arizona, New Mexico and Colorado and Maine. I’m studying the healing power of the human touch.

~~~I am a Survivor & a Husband~~~

My Beautiful wife Kathy

My Mother and Father

My Grandparents

As in life, my page is still under construction.

My signature painting ~~~HOPE~~~



While I was stationed in Vietnam during the war I had a couple of close calls. It makes me wonder why I’m still here. During my 14 months tour of duty a small black puppy about 10 weeks old with a patch of white on his face came wondering around our bunker. The poor thing was so thin, scared and covered with fleas. I decided to give him a bath and gave him some food. Well you know how puppies are. He stayed at my side day and night. I called him “Shadow”. He would follow me when on patrol, always walking a little in front of me. Well one day we were laying a landline to a tank battalion. About halfway there Shadow started getting excited about something. He turned around and started jumping around and scratching my leg. I didn’t really pay any attention to him, thought he was just having fun. All of a sudden he disappeared in front of me, then I heard him cry in agonizing pain. As I walked slowly ahead I saw what happened. I’ll never forget that site. He had fallen into a punchie trap. It is a hole dug in the ground by the Vietcong. They place sharpened bamboo stacks in the hole then urinate and crap on them, then cover it up with branches. Shadow was dead by the time I reached him. He had soft smile on his face. I recovered his body, covered it with shirt. One of my buddies who had been awarded a Purple Heart gave it to me so I could pin it on the shirt. We placed him in a grave close to our bunker. That wonderful little guy saved my life. Even to this day some 35 years later I get a tear in my eye when I think about “Shadow”. I feel a little guilty some times. If I hadn’t cared for him he would not have died.
Dedicated to ~Shadow’s Spirit~. A friend, a warrior, a spirit.


She stands in a mist of many battles, with head held high, and soul so strong. She vow’s never to stop the good fight for her People. With a spirit of Wisdom and warriors heart she prays for peace that we all belong. With a Mothers compassion she opens her arms, for those who seek a safe place from all harms. She offers to heal, to love, to cry, and to laugh. And for those who have passed over a wing so to fly. It is the color within her that she clings to with hand, it can’t be denied she is part of the clan. Woman like all others, but with so much more it’s clear. That is why I have written these words; My Sister’s Tears

Dedicated to ~Svhiyeyi Aga Koga Evening Rain Crow~

StrongBearRedHeart © 2000


Many winters ago there was an Old man who lived all alone in the forest. Not many people came to visit him because they thought he was possessed with an evil spirit. Even his family thought he was crazy. The Old man’s lodge was a mile from the river’s edge. So, every day he would carry two large jugs for water and walk to the river and back again. People would ask the Old man: “Old man, why don’t you move your lodge closer to the river, so won’t have to walk so far?” The Old man never answered them, he would just give a knowing smile and keep going. Then one day while the Old man was sitting outside of his lodge, a little girl of about 8 or 9 years old, dressed in buckskin, wandered up the path towards his lodge. She had beautiful long hair, shimmering like a raven’s wing. Her eyes were big and bright and full of wonder. Her walk was confident and graceful as the deer. It seemed that she almost floated along the ground. There was no fear of the Old man in her eyes. The Old man wondered who this child could be as he had never seen her before. The little girl sat down quietly in front of the Old man. After a time he said: “Child, what is your name?” She slowly raised her head and said: “Sparrow Wing.” With that the Old man raised a shaggy gray eyebrow and picked up his empty water jugs. In a soft and wise voice the Old man spoke; “Little One, I have to go to the river and fill my water jugs, would care to walk along and keep me company?” “Yes I would.” she replied. Then she asked: “Grandfather, why don’t you move your lodge closer to the river’s edge so you won’t have to walk so far to get the water?” The Old man’s eyes sparkled with delight as a smile moved across his wrinkled face. “Because Granddaughter, if we all moved to the river’s edge there would no longer be room for the animals and birds.” “They are our blessings, we should not gamble with our blessings.” Sparrow Wing came to visit the Old man many times. They would talk, tell stories and laugh. Then one day after Sparrow Wing had grown to be a beautiful women she came to visit him, but he was not at his lodge, so she walked to the river. There at the river’s edge the Old man was laying on his back, the jugs at his side. There was no movement from him, just a smile. All around the Old man there were songbirds singing and two fawns lay next to him with their heads resting gently on his chest. She did not feel sad. She knew he had passed over to the spirit world.

StrongBearRedHeart © June, 2001

Stone one is the color white, the stone of the clear conscience. It is when the mind and spirit is free as it searches for knowledge. The child in us asks the world why, where and when? The child does not see the evil or good in an event, but only see the event.
Stone two is the color blue, the stone of creativity. As we gain knowledge our spirits soar in a sky of unlimited possibilities. We do not create with our hands, but rather with our hearts. The hands are only tools used by the heart, which can create beauty or ugliness if we chose.
Stone three is the color red, the stone of wisdom and fire. This can be a time of sharing, building and harmony. Or, it can also corrupt and turn the soul black with hatred and fear. We must seek the guidance of the Great Spirit before we speak or take action.
Stone four is the color tan, the stone of remembrance. What we leave behind for others is how we will be remembered through the ages. Our children and our children’s children will have the burden of our actions and words. As we carry the stones of life, place them gently in a circle on Mother earth so that a warm fire will burn for all to see and be comforted.

StrongBearRedHeart © 2001

My spirit has always been with you, even before Mother Earth embraced me in her loving arms. As I have watched you grow in knowledge, compassion and wisdom, you have brought great joy to the world. Always sharing of yourself, giving to others your love and understanding while never asking anything in return. You look at us not with judgment in your eyes, but with gentle acceptance in your heart. The smoke from your fire cleans our spirit and clears the way for a wondrous new journey. We go forward in the light of your love, to bring peace and harmony to the world. No more will hate, hunger, fear or illness keep us captive. We have the power of your unconditional love to protect us as we travel through a moment in time.
StrongBearRedHeart © 2001

Come my brothers and sisters, come all the children of our land, come and sit by the village fire as the night closes around us. Watch the flames push the smoke upward toward Grandfather Sky. Our hope is deep as we send these, the most silent of prayers to ride the smoke to the Great Spirit. The drums beat softly…… Sit quietly all my people and hear the sound, hear the crackling of the fire, the sound of family and friends, sharing their happiness. The warmth we feel comes from this sharing of love not the fire. Look closely into each others eyes. What do we see? What is it that is reflected back to us? We see ourselves in one another and all that which has made us who you are. The drums beat faster……. Close your eyes my family, and listen to the wind as it stirs the flames higher. Listen to the songs of our ancestors. They offer so much, all we need do is open your hearts to their words. Only when we listen and learn from there wisdom can we grow as a people. The drums beat louder…… Inhale the aromas around you, smell the sage burning, the food cooking in the pits, the deer hide that we wear, the rain in the air and Mother Earth under our feet. The drum beats shake the ground like buffalo running across the prairie……… Taste what has come to our lips. Taste the tears of joy that come from our eyes. They are the tears of the past, present and the future. Grandfather Eagle has given us a view of the future, and it is good. Then we realize it is not the drums that beat so loudly, but our own hearts coming together as one people under the Great Spirit, in Peace, Love and Harmony………..finally.
StrongBearRedHeart © 1999

Deep, in the dark place it awaits, laying low to the ground. Breathing slowly, it’s breath bearly heard, but the scent unmistakable. It’s eyes are slits of green, moving from side to side, looking, but not looking. I can feel it, but I can’t touch it. No light shines in this place deep within, only the cold, dampness that surrounds me like a blanket. Oh Great Spirit, I need your help, I am lost in this place and can’t find my out. How did I get here? Where can I run? Oh Great Spirit, what should I do? Please show me the way out of here. Then the Great Spirit spoke in whispers to me, saying “My son, standup and be brave. You are free. The only thing that can hold a warrior back is the fear from within him. The fear that he will not die an honorable death, as the ancient ones.” “Be at peace with yourself and others.” My face now looks for the morning sun!
StrongBearRedHeart © 1999

Within us, there is a greatness few have witnessed, and few of us have ever learned to use it. Within us, we are nothing and we are everything. We are all, but a speck of sand compared to the universe. Compared to the Great Spirit we are nothing more than a drop of water in the great ocean. How can we hope to be granted anything from the Great Spirit? When we pray, we ask the Creator to come into our lives and show us the good path. We ask to be protected from evil doers. We ask the Creator to help someone that is ill, or to comfort someone that grieving. We pray for peace, love and hope. When our Spirit joined with the flesh of our body, there was put within us, all that is needed to do the things we ask of the Great Spirit. The Creator put part of himself into us. He gave us all the power, to help heal, comfort, protect, bring peace, love and hope to others. When we use this power for others we help ourselves and when use it against others we use it against ourselves. We are all different parts of the same body. All of us are needed to keep the body strong, and at peace within and without. Within us, is the Great Spirit and within the Great Spirit there we are. We are separate and yet we are all One!
StrongBearRedHeart © 1999

It will push from behind, or push you from the side. It will even meet you head on to stop you from going forward. We can not see this spirit that has so much power over us, yet we know that it’s there. The sand moves from beneath our feet and slips away like the tide of the ocean. We stumble and fall, our face in the sand. No longer can we see, our sight blurred for our anger of the wind. Do not lay there and weep. Stand up and let the wind blow away the sand from your face. Now release yourself to this spirit; let it take you where it will. The wind will guide you on the right path.
“Struggles do not happen to us, they happen for us.”
StrongBearRedHeart © 2001

In the virgin haze of the first morning's light, she sits at the mountain's base, and there calls to me. There in the mountain stream that braids through the rocks, and flows to the sea there she calls to me. In a soft summer wind, she is there. My arms raised high, I let her caress me with a familiar touch. And yet it seems a lifetime, sense I felt this, there she calls to me. In the Chickadees sweet song, in the Eagles mighty scream, and the Mourning Doves soft purr, she calls to me. As a warm spring rain covers my body, I taste her sweetness on my tongue, she calls to me. I lay my head upon her breast, and sigh. Her heart sings to my spirit. I feel the warmth of her body, she calls to me. With her skin on my face I catch her fragrance. A smile crosses my lips, my pain has disappeared, as she calls to me. She calls to me; “Come home my son, you have been gone long enough.” “Let me hold you in my arms and keep you safe for all time.” I must go now my friends, I can no longer stay and play. I will miss you all. Mother Earth,…… she calls to me.
StrongBearRedHeart © 2000


~Svhiyeyi Aga Koga Evening Rain Crow~


The smell of cedar and sage fill the air, the fire's smoke, pungent, strong, red hot embers burn there, in the fire that burns hot and strong, accompanying me in singing my song. I sang out sounds of pain, of gentleness, despair and joy. The sweet smell of cedar filled the night air, the sage intermingling, encircling the hot burning fire in the center of the circle there. There in the night, with the woods all around, encircled by trees - a heavenly crown and up above - just raise my head, a canopy of stars, all sizes and shades of bright colored light - some shooting through the sky, against a backdrop of tonight's dark night sky, a heavenly sight. The Great Star Nation..... beckoning, come my child, it is Peace I bring, and the time is now. The winds began, encircling around and around, through the tops of the trees - a special mountain sound. Cracking sounds in the woods, brother animals coming around, close to the circle of cedar and sage, of the bright burning fire encircled with love, from the Ancient Spirits who have traveled from join us as one, Family, a gathering song, an offering. Together again, touched within, now the real test of my life begins. There is much to do and learn and know - and to walk this road, can be painful, and often too slow. A heavy burden I carry on my back, but tonight oh tonight, the fire burned so bright! Crackled, hot, with embers aglow - a sky filled with stars and beauty and the sound of the wind, the animals walking, it's time to begin - to get back within that Sacred Circle again. I stand there and stare up at the night sky, see the glow of life encircling me, and I know there are things that lie ahead - we must walk on and face our fate. For each are here, for a purpose I know, and as varied and colorful as the stars in this night's bright sky....each of us must walk our lives, and hope to be like the dark night sky - a colored star, big and bright, shining down with wisdom and loving light. © Svhyeyi Aga~Evening Rain Cherokee August 11, 2001 154 am est

There's no going back to what once was. I walk along a different road, one that is so different from just a year ago. Some days the load is light and free, other days I feel as if at day's end, they will bury me. Back to what once was, but it cannot be. I walk a different road now, I'm a different me. The road from which I traveled cross, hard at times, difficult and lost; tears and sadness, anger and shame, but that road is behind me and I'm walking once again. I cannot go back to what once was - but sometimes I feel a gentle tug, regret, sadness, sorrow for things that have been, but I can't go back on that road again. I've walked past and on to a new place, where Spirit points out the way if I listen close to what they say. The old ones, the ones who have gone on before, made their walk on that road which was meant for them to explore. We each have a road all our own, where we must learn from birth to the end, alone. And at the end of the path here on earth, there's a new beginning road again. We shall stand in a light so bright, that nothing can be hidden and we will face the Greatest Judge of all, Great Spirit, our Creator. We shall see then so very clearly, how we walked that road and if we walked it as it was suppose to be. With honor, respect and dignity. Love and laughter, and humility. So, I walk on now, as I am suppose to be. I cannot go back to once was, it cannot be. © Svhyeyi Aga - Evening Rain Cherokee February 2, 2001 352am est


I went to the river today.....walked through the quiet of the deep woods. The scent of the pines, the oak, the poplar - the damp earthen floor, after a heavy evening rain. My stick in hand; I come here often and how well I know this land. So, I walked along the path through the dampened forest grass and found my special place on the river that I love. There I pray - and gave my thanks and honored all our Ancestors pass - recent and the timeless ones who lived and breathed upon this earth - who smiled and cried, who loved and shared, who fought and died. Who gave birth. Who healed the people. Who sang the great songs of the soul and spirit - and those whose voices were only heard for a few short moons. The river flowed gently - the reflection of the sky and clouds shining on the river's surface. The birds would call, but were quiet too and yet no need of sound for me to feel the spirit all around us, within us and in every living creation there. To the Sacred blood of our Mother, the river, I shared a gift - the Sacred tobacco - for all the blessings for giving us life and in remembrance of those who have passed onto the Spirit World and I watched the red color of that which held the Sacred Tobacco as it flowed as one with the blood of our Mother - toward the south - toward the mighty sea. Time to leave - no not this place, but to walk more upon it - to hear the roar of the falls and to smell the special smells that were everywhere this day. Along the wooded path I returned and to the mighty river where its great thrush gathered the soft and white river sand and made a mound to walk upon - to walk in a circle around the river at this very special spot. To the river's edge I go - to the left I see the mighty falls...and hear them although they are more quiet now than with their winter flow. All around me encircled by woods and rock and trees and sky and clouds and wind. I lean against my stick and turn now and then in this Sacred Circle to look with love upon all the beauty we have been gifted. My eyes filled with this beauty and as always it touched my heart, my soul, my spirit and filled me up. Then I heard. Off to the distance I could hear them -the men, singing. It was a good song, although I do not understand the words. Not in language of the tongue, but I do understand the song in my soul. It is the voices of the Ancestors - the Grandfathers - the Warriors - our brothers, our sons, our husbands - our fathers and our Grandfathers. And I am humbled by this special gift - their song to me to end this day. The sky's light begins to lessen now - the day is drawing to an end. It is time to leave this special place - but I leave with happiness, I leave with gratitude and I leave, renewed, refreshed and very, very blessed. Written by Svhiyeyi Aga - November 21, 1999 Cherokee


The fire burns bright this winter night The snow that glistens and covers our Mother Is as warm to her, as the fire so colorful That crackles and jumps high into the sky. The Grandfathers glow for our Ancestors know the fire burns bright within our souls. Our spirits are strong, our pride never wavers. For we all know deep within our spirit, We can never be defeated, never destroyed, the obstacles we face give our might saving grace, and we go on - knowing we will survive - we will overcome the drifts of the snow - we shall travel through, leaving our footprints in the glistening white snow, to show, to show - that we leave ourselves here, with our Mother always, deep within the glistening snow, deep within our soul. The cries of our people - the voices in the wind - the footprints left many tracks as they traveled from within - from the land of their birth forced to leave, forced to hurt - with the loss of their babies, their fathers, their mothers, their lovers. The old ones - the Grandfathers and Grandmothers, as they marched that long Trail far from the place in which they hailed, in which the laughed and cherished and loved. Feeling the earth, living many winters, planting the crop, watching it grow - seeing another winter, the glistening snows. Up in those mountains - the footprints are there to remind us of the history we bear. The history of our people, our blood, is what must keep us walking through the glistening snows. With dignity and pride, with strength and determination, we leave our footprints behind in the glistening snows. And the fire burns bright within our souls.

Svhiyeyi Aga Koga Evening Rain Crow Cherokee March 12, 2000

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