The many seasoned Eagle
crosses the shadows;
eyes straining beneath his feathers,
for trails of forgotten Indians.

Long ago, when the air was sweet
and the grass was green,
the Buffalo shared this corner as well;
a world of nature and freedom.

The Eagle, then happy to soar the skies,
sought eternal life through
the Traditions down below where
He and the Buffalo were revered.

This was a place, a mystical one, of
Old Traditions passed down,
from Father to Child,
holding them to the roots of their ancestors.

Now, the Eagle soars, seeking
Truth of all that has transpired.
with war, eviction and death.
The trails now lead nowhere.

His cry can be heard,
if you stop to listen.
He'll tell you the story of woe,
of the conquered, and murdered.

He soars the shadows
eternally, seeking footprints,
upon the trails of his brothers,
hoping for the salvation of man.

Linda Cervantes Rose
Copyright l998