on the sacred plains where wild winds blow
where the coyote sings his lonely song
and we hunted the buffalo
our painted ponies were fast and strong
our arrows were sure, our bows were long
brother to brother we pledged our all
many enemies feared our warriors brave
you could hear our god call
in the eagle’s cry above the sacred graves
of ancient ones to whom homage we gave
the people lived as one in spiritual harmony
with the land and her creatures wild
on our spirit journeys we’d see
through the eyes of a god and a child
things which would come to pass in a while
on the sacred plains where wild winds blow
our voices are heard no more
for we have gone the way many nations go
leaving behind only our legends and lore
and the great Apache is feared no more
I read a comment on an article on the Yahoo news page that said that is South Dakota there is a county that is the poorest in the whole nation. A comment by a Native American said it right. Instead of so many complaining about the Native American being lazy and depending on government money, we should just own up and start paying them rent. And I agree. I am white and ashamed to admit that my ancestors had a hand in stealing the land right out from under the Native American and that in revenge of Little Big Horn slaughtered women, children and old people. We should all pay homage to Wounded Knee and pay rent for the land out ancestors stole. While the Apache, the Sioux, and the Cree are feared no more, we still owe them homage. Thank you for sharing, Belle.
May the LOrd Jesus bless you, and those whom you love, and be with you always, and at your side constantly. With much love in my heart, joy to the world,peace on earth, & ((((((((((MANY WONDERFUL SISTERLY HUGGGGSSSS)))))))))), your little sister, Barbie
Belle,
Spirit winds blow this elegant, dignified lament
straight into my room and into my heart.
And the loss of the brave and natural is all
too common across the globe, to our detriment and shame.
YOU'VE PAINTED A PICTURE...SO FULL OF PRIDE AND STRENGTH THAT IT'S MARKED TONE OF SADNESS IS CROWNED...BY IT'S BEAUTY. DEFINITELY...YOU. DONE WITH REMARKABLE POETICAL ARTISTRY. THE MUSIC AND PHRASES ENHANCE ONE ANOTHER FROM BEGINNING TO END. THANKS FOR SHARING, LABELL...LOVE, BLESSINGS & FAITH. JOYCE * HIS INSPIRATIONS
Thankfully, Belle, there are still a few poets with
the heart and talent to give voice to the Apache and
all Native Americans. You are one of those poets.
-gene.
I love to soak up all I can about Native American culture, Belle, and your words of lament can surely be heard on the winds that still blow across these terrains. Sacredness can never be destroyed: it is an inherent quality that endures to immortality. As always, thoughtful words of beauty and grace, Belle. xx
The drug called "The Shari" has been used for vision quests over many years. But, when all the rivers start drying up, the tribe must send a young hunter named Tomás on a much more important trip through the Amazon.
The drug called "The Shari" has been used for vision quests over many years. But, when all the rivers start drying up, the tribe must send a young hunter named Tomás on a much more important trip through the Amazon.
The drug called "The Shari" has been used for vision quests over many years. But, when all the rivers start drying up, the tribe must send a young hunter named Tomás on a much more important trip through the Amazon.
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the total end of a way of life and a people,
Steve.
duke larance -- the drugstore cowboy poet
May the LOrd Jesus bless you, and those whom you love, and be with you always, and at your side constantly. With much love in my heart, joy to the world,peace on earth, & ((((((((((MANY WONDERFUL SISTERLY HUGGGGSSSS)))))))))), your little sister, Barbie
Amor
Regis
Thanks Dick
Spirit winds blow this elegant, dignified lament
straight into my room and into my heart.
And the loss of the brave and natural is all
too common across the globe, to our detriment and shame.
John
Ever,
Christine
Ron
Love
Tony
fee
the heart and talent to give voice to the Apache and
all Native Americans. You are one of those poets.
-gene.