Haunted by the ghosts of times before,
The mind sifts through memories like an old photo album.
Pain and misery are one's most faithful friends,
They'll never leave nor forsake.
The greatest misery is the rememberence of happier times.
Dancing shadows and twisting lights,
Deep rapid beat of the water drum; three white pepples baptized,
The echo of falling rain melds with voices of singers,
Brilliant feathers fan fragrant smoke of sage, sweetgrass and hozhooji natoh,
Rising with prayers to the Creator above.
White, red, blue flames contract and expand with the pulsating drum beat,
Bitter medicine upon moist lips,
Heart wrapped in the embrace of hope, harmony and peaceful abiding.
Fire that breathes between the half circle,
Journey of life is short walk upon this earth.
One's spirit soaring along the voices of sound and power, rattle and drum,
Entering into the warm, swaying flame.
Look...a beautiful, flowing haired girl, smiling.
A soldier being taken away into captivity, to a dark place.
Many choppers flying in formation from the west to the east.
Storms of heavy artillary fire follow.
An ochestra of confusing images.
With time these seeds produce fruit,
Memories are comforting while so many are haunting.
Here, now entombed in a mausoleum of concrete and steel,
Walking through the valley of the shadow of death,
Fearing no evil, for the Lord is with.
Surrounded by vast darkness,
One seeking peace within chaos,
Nurturing the hope that there's still hope.
A rose growing from concrete.