We cannot eat lies
or feast on empty promises
No more than the bison,
starving in the desert sand
We cannot clothe our children
as we run from the Wasichus
Our teepees torn and freezing
amidst the winter snows
(Pine Ridge South Dakota: Late September, 1994)
Grandfather's Song
Our Father, life giving light,
Redeemer of the plains
Carry our offerings into your heart,
remember, we serve in your name
Spirit Redeemer, the mountains and hills,
distant and barren in lore
The drums have restarted, the chanting begun,
the People despairing no more
(From ‘The Book Of Prayers:’ September, 2020)
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Author:
Kurt Philip Behm (
Offline) - Published: September 4th, 2020 12:34
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 29
- Users favorite of this poem: Lauraš»
Offline)
Comments1
Kurt,
While reading āOglala Lament: December, 1890ā, I envisioned that solemn tear falling upon Crazy Horseās cheek. It nudged me to revisit āSearching For Crazy Horseā and be reminded of the decimation of whole tribes and villages and the slaughter of millions of buffaloes; unnecessary destruction by the Wasichus!!
Lauraš»
Thanks Lauraāsad indeed! I spent the best part of two years
at Pine Ridge listening to their stories...
Kurt
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