Topic: Failed Treaties and Lost Tribes | |
---|---|
Edited by
Noden
on
Thu 03/20/08 12:43 PM
|
|
Failed Treaties and Lost Tribes
Crashing cast of misfit warriors Chasing off scavangers on motherland Yeah you talk discouraging words that bands our minds think not what treateis you've broken in your lies Our trails of forgotten paths, broken dreams we give out our warrior cries bluring below blackened skies cresent with crows, blue eyes slipping, slying plys An excerpt: of Chief Seatle Every shining pine needle every sandy shore how can you buy, or sell the sky?, the land? the idea is strange to me if we do not own the freshness of the air the sparkle of the water how can you buy them doesn't seem fair Every part of the earth is scared the mist in the dark woods the meadow, the humming insects are are holy, in memory the sap which courses through the trees as the blood the courses through our viens we are part of this earth and the earth is a part of us Perfumed flowers are our sisters bear, deer and great eagle these are our brothers, rocky crest, the dew in the meadow body heat of the pony and man, all belong to the same family Shining water that moves in the streams rivers are not just water, but the blood of our ancestors how can we sell this land it is scared, each glossy reflection in the clear waters tells of events and memories The air shares its spirit with all life supports the wind that gave us first breath, also gives it's last sigh, it gives our children the spirit of life, as a place where man can go to taste the wind that is sweetened by the meadow flowers The earth is our mother, what befalls the earth befalls all the sons of the earth, the earth does not belong to man, the man belongs to earth, all are connected like the blood that unites us all Man did not weave the web of life he is merely a strand in it whatever he does to the web, he does to himself What will happen when the buffalo are all slaughtered?, the wild horses tamed? what will happen when the secret corners of the forest are heavy with the scent of many men and the view of the ripe hills blotted with talking wires? Where will the thicket be? Gone! Where will the eagle be? Gone! What is to say goodbye to the swift pony and then the hunt? The end of living and the beginning of survival. When the last red man has vanished with this wilderness, and his memory is only the shadow of a cloud moving across the prairies, will these shores and forest still be here? Will there be any of the spirit of my people there? Ky'Hoo'Ya! May you always walk in the sunlight of the Spirit! I cry out, as one of the many in my tribe of the Blackfoot Indians, Noden |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Hello, John thanks for the flowers... |
|
|
|
Very nicely written Noden
Cal |
|
|
|
Very nicely written Noden Cal Thank you Cal Nice grandbaby you have in your arms, had to go check and see who you where, hope you don't mind. |
|
|
|
Nope took a gander at you also
|
|
|
|
MAY THE SUN... bring you new energy by day. MAY THE MOON... softly restore you by night. MAY THE RAIN... wash away your worries. MAY THE BREEZE... blow new strength into your being. MAY YOU WALK... gently through the world and know its beauty all the days of your life. ~Apache Blessing~ |
|
|
|
MAY THE SUN... bring you new energy by day. MAY THE MOON... softly restore you by night. MAY THE RAIN... wash away your worries. MAY THE BREEZE... blow new strength into your being. MAY YOU WALK... gently through the world and know its beauty all the days of your life. ~Apache Blessing~ Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwh!!!(((((((((((((MsTeddy))))))))))))you've made me cry.... |
|
|
|
Failed Treaties and Lost Tribes Crashing cast of misfit warriors Chasing off scavangers on motherland Yeah you talk discouraging words that bands our minds think not what treateis you've broken in your lies Our trails of forgotten paths, broken dreams we give out our warrior cries bluring below blackened skies cresent with crows, blue eyes slipping, slying plys An excerpt: of Chief Seatle Every shining pine needle every sandy shore how can you buy, or sell the sky?, the land? the idea is strange to me if we do not own the freshness of the air the sparkle of the water how can you buy them doesn't seem fair Every part of the earth is scared the mist in the dark woods the meadow, the humming insects are are holy, in memory the sap which courses through the trees as the blood the courses through our viens we are part of this earth and the earth is a part of us Perfumed flowers are our sisters bear, deer and great eagle these are our brothers, rocky crest, the dew in the meadow body heat of the pony and man, all belong to the same family Shining water that moves in the streams rivers are not just water, but the blood of our ancestors how can we sell this land it is scared, each glossy reflection in the clear waters tells of events and memories The air shares its spirit with all life supports the wind that gave us first breath, also gives it's last sigh, it gives our children the spirit of life, as a place where man can go to taste the wind that is sweetened by the meadow flowers The earth is our mother, what befalls the earth befalls all the sons of the earth, the earth does not belong to man, the man belongs to earth, all are connected like the blood that unites us all Man did not weave the web of life he is merely a strand in it whatever he does to the web, he does to himself What will happen when the buffalo are all slaughtered?, the wild horses tamed? what will happen when the secret corners of the forest are heavy with the scent of many men and the view of the ripe hills blotted with talking wires? Where will the thicket be? Gone! Where will the eagle be? Gone! What is to say goodbye to the swift pony and then the hunt? The end of living and the beginning of survival. When the last red man has vanished with this wilderness, and his memory is only the shadow of a cloud moving across the prairies, will these shores and forest still be here? Will there be any of the spirit of my people there? Ky'Hoo'Ya! May you always walk in the sunlight of the Spirit! I cry out, as one of the many in my tribe of the Blackfoot Indians, Noden Nice to see you home again Beautiful |
|
|
|
very nice my dear
great to read you as always |
|
|
|
Ahhhh, that man was awesome.
Good job Noden. Puppy snuffle in your ear cause I'm happy to see ya here. |
|
|