'Talking With The Spirits' And Elders Passing Poem by Poison 9901

High atop the sacred mountain,
My memories run freely, like waters thru a fountain.
Surrounded by beauty, in awe of its grace,
Thanking the Great Spirit, for saving this place.

Land where once the might buffalo roamed free,
Now fenced and wired, as far as the eye can see
Rivers ran wild and free, and held many a salmon bed,
Now are dammed for electricity, polluted, stagnate and dead.

The beaver, the bear and the antelope, they use to all be free,
Now all in a zoo somewhere, caged up for all to see.
Where have all the forest gone? The trees that stood so tall.
Vanishing from mother earth, listen to her desperate call.

What about the eagles, the ones who ruled the skies?
Are they to but a victim, another of the white mans lies.
You took from us our homelands, and promised us we’d be free.
Like everything else you promised, this I’ve still yet to see.

My painted face a symbol, of who I use to be.
Like the bow and the arrow, just another broken part of me.
I’ll leave this earth forever, to ride the gentle breeze.
To sit among my ancestors, the Navajo, Crow, Apache and the Cherokees



Dedicated to all the tribes who are still forced to live
out there lives on the baron lands we call
“Reservations”