Does our God
In heaven just have different faces for everyone of
Earth's unique places?
Then does the Great Spirit stand by the pure pearled gate -
A guardian of this country's land?
The Great Spirit said to all while native hearts bled -
I can gladly take your hand.
The Great Spirit lives in the rivers, flowers, stars and trees.
Through him our true God in the new world perhaps, says while
Whispering upon the breeze - it is meant for you to
Follow me here and be free.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nearly mystical in concept. Brief and thought invoking- Something about this makes me mourn for the Indian culture