While staring, at the slow dying embers
Dusk began to darken the sky
My thoughts went to, tribal members
As I sat meditating, an eagle flew by
I sat quietly, listening for. . .
Wind whispers through the night
I could almost hear the native's words
As my imagination, took flight
Wind Whispers, flowing from above
Carried on breezes, flowing by
Whisperings, of peace and love
From the earth, winds, and sky
The natives had been, a peaceful people
Hunting completed, most of their days
Gathering only, what they would need
Continuing in "Native American" ways
The "Wappo" known, for their beautiful baskets
Braiding together, sedge, redbud and bulrush
The young braves, would make rough nets
Catching fish at waterfalls, where waters gushed
I often wonder what laid on their minds
As our Soldiers, disrupted their life
Did they question "Great White Spirit"
Asking "why" . . . They were brought this strife
Did fear lay heavily, upon each chest
While made to leave, their humble home
Forced to travel, wearily . . . Without rest
Feeling helpless, having so far to roam
I wonder how many, Wind Whispers
Were uttered, from the hearts of these
I wonder how many turned a deaf ear
Choosing not. . .To hear their plea's
Labeled with a name and reputation
That none really did deserve. . .
Forced to living a life, of desolation
And, for who's benefit, did this serve
I know I am not the Judge, nor Jury
And, God in the end. . .Had His say
Yet, Wind Whispers, speak of the fury
That was suffered day after day. . .
In the end . . . Restitution was given
It is sad to imagine, what all was lost
Being pushed, prodded, and hard driven
To gain "Native Land" at any cost
Now . . I'll remain, listening so intent
For Wind Whispers, to pass me by
Even now . . . For me, it's a sad event
For as I listen, a tear falls from my eye.
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