Salty Wounds Poem by Jay Aguiniga

I sit watching the white people enjoying their morning rituals,
Smiles spread across the faces,
like the wind spreads across the wild grassed habitual.
There was a time before anyone cared about time,
The sun rose from the great spirit
and set below the wooden tree line.

My mind ponders
on what the american Indians sacrificed and lost
We only remember by what others teach,
how cowardice tossed.
I visualize the children playing
in the great prairies at ease,
Before the White man arrived
with their guilders and disease.

When one could walk and walk
where no human had set before.
One could look up into the night sky,
see the heavens that now the blind white ignores.
They are pressed to believe,
what has happened is Gods will,
but I find it hard to believe,
that any higher power would be fulfilled.

How can we raise our children to respect mother earth,
Before an natural occurrence and natures rebirth?
One must first become the teacher
before mentoring the student
If I hear, I forget, I see, I remember,
I do and I understand the moment.

Take the time to visualize
the weathered hardened young warrior, do you see?
Now visualize the warmth of the salty tear
running from aged saddened eyes,
gaze into his heart that is true.
The difference to make a difference is in the reflection,
the image is that of you!