The Sky Weeps For Me

Everyday I wear the fire of the Sun across my face

It burns its smile in many directions

Since the day my mother gave birth to me

Where I was made with the dirt

Covered by the buffalo many times

My father showed his love

To my mother in secret

And she gave him me as gratitude

For every arrow that struck

Every animal to fill our bellies

Every skin we wear

Every tool we use to make what we need

And every blanket that kept us warm

Now we see the Ghost from tomorrow

The Pale One with round eyes

He and his wife and children

They come smiling

But say nothing about taking our land

They scar the Earth with tools

They build strange shelters made from mud and grass and trees

And shiny openings through which to look out

They do not ask for our land in trade

Only invite themselves

And paint strange pictures that make magic

They say their chief makes the land for them

One day I rode across my free land and my eyes played tricks

I saw horses pull more Pale Ones

We began to call the white men

Each group that came

Made more behind them

They claim my land and my father's land

Every day they came and took more and gave back less

They offer no trade

They refused to smoke peace with us

We had to learn their talk

And we learned they would take no time to ask

Just take with nothing in return

Many moons and many years later

I would dance less for The Great Spirit

For there across the face of the ground

My father, mother, brother, sister

One by one would bleed

One by one we cry

One by one the Pale Ones

With no Sun in their eyes or hearts

Would take away every name

Every village and every hunting ground

With more paintings that bear no value

Because the more they came

The more we would lose

Until in the end our eyes could cry no more

Only the sky weeps for me

And I have nothing left of value.

Copyright © 2015 Charles Edward York

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