Cherokee Wind Poem by Granville Holt

For visions he will smoke the Deer horn pipe,
To calm her child she'll hum old lullaby,
A song of tears to teach of days gone by,
Of clans who Pow Wow dance as blossoms ripe.

Hey Yo, Hey Yah, these stories we all know
When Bird, Bear and Coyote Osiyo
Our blood cries out a simple word, Wado!

The Earth will welcome us, it knows our tribe,
As Green Corn blessings come again each Spring
We gather to remember and to sing
Of spirit ways our very souls describe.

Hey Yo, Hey Yah, these stories we all know
When Bird, Bear and Coyote Osiyo
Our blood cries out a simple word, Wado!

Through dust and cloud the seasons call for signs
To hear the voice of our Creator speak,
With prayer from bold heart His will we seek
And humbly follow trails His love designs.

Hey Yo, Hey Yah, these stories we all know
When Bird, Bear and Coyote Osiyo
Our blood cries out a simple word, Wado!