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Tribal Spirits Weep

A sparkling stream now flowing free,
Through fields of yellow daffodils,
Will soon be part of history
As Congress kills clean water bills.

A speckled trout enroute downstream
Keeps getting weaker by the mile.
The Ancient Ones in silence scream
For streams now filled with filth so vile.

The maze that grew on fertile plains
Has been replaced by housing sites.
The white man never felt the pains
Of Native tribes who lost their rights.

The Spirits watch the Buffalo
That once stretched far as sight can see.
The phantom herds now ghosts, they know,
Were, like themselves, once proud and free.

White hunters with the golden hair
And deadly rifles, long and true,
Would slaughter herds without a care
For only heads with horns of blue.

They left the carcasses to rot
Out in the fertile flat-plain heat,
While Natives watched, with souls distraught,
Their way of life in fast retreat.

Chief Joseph sat cross-legged and said,
"From this day on I fight no more, "
Then stood and turned his regal head
As tears poured forth upon the floor.

Then slowly all the tribes were placed
Upon non-sacred, dried-out lands,
Where, if they strayed, they soon were chased
By brutal troops with bloodied hands.

And soon the Buffalo were gone,
All streams and soil polluted waste.
The concrete highways stretched too long,
Through sacred Tribal ground in haste.

At night you hear the Spirit Tribe
Still weep and wail until the dawn;
They know white men too long denied
Their avarice and greed was wrong.

A world in danger high and deep,
As we prepare to meet the day
When Mother Earth has gone to sleep;
Her life destroyed along the way.

And this has been the legacy
When white men ruled each century.
They left the tribes no dignity
And lost their own humanity.

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