The children ran along the Riverbank
The sun shone brightly from above
Springtime birds from treetops sang,
Sparrows, singing songs of love.
Gazed into the stream, careful not to slip,
Saw Salmon running up the falls
Children, on their springtime camping trip,
No longer trapped within closed walls.
They searched around to find a place.
To pitch their tents and light their fire
When they saw before in a clearing space,
A sight that made laugh and cheer.
Standing next to a forest tree
They saw a tepee standing all alone.
An Ancient man leaned upon that tree
He seemed asleep in the afternoon sun.
He opened his eyes and smiled at them
He showed them where to pitch their camp.
Lit their fires with twig and stem
Secure and safe against the damp.
As darkness fell, he began to sing.
He sang them a tale of the web of creation.
Into the night, his voice did ring.
Tales he told of vanished Nations.
He sang the tales of Wolf and Crow.
Of spirits that whisper through the trees.
Legends of tribes they did not know.
His Medicine Bundle he gave them to see.
Finally tired, they went to their sleep.
Snuggled deep in their camping beds.
Dreaming of ancient tales, they would keep.
Of Ancient Tribes and the life they had led.
They woke from their slumber just before dawn.
Woke to the sound of a mournful Howl
They were filled with fear, terror born.
Outside their tents came a deep throated growl.
They heard the bear turn and leave
They ventured out to look around
What they saw they could not believe
They saw the source of that howling sound.
The Old man’s lodge had disappeared
In it’s its place sat a great Grey Wolf
It seemed to say, “Have no Fear”.
It’s glowing eyes seemed filled with love.
Within their minds, they heard his words,
“Remember well the tales I have sung,
Listen to the Trees and birds,
Love the earth and your lives will be long”.
He lifted his nose and sniffed the air.
“I leave you now the Web to dance,
Sing with spirits, within the air.
My time is past” they felt as if, in a trance.
Then the Wolf with one last Howl rose into the sky
The Old man’s fire was still burning bright
Around them spirits seemed to sigh.
As rose the sun with morning light.
Robin A Spicer © 18 May 2004