Heart Of The Matter
Two Blue Feathers
I visualize him standing there,
In my sunrise,
And my sunset,
He watches, waiting,
For my call,
At first glance,
He startled me,
My Native American brave,
Stony faced and surreal,
Bold and resolute,
In his stance,
Yet I felt no fear for him,
Nor malice,
Only intrigue and mystery,
Daring me to seek his presence,
He listened to my silent voice,
And I asked who sent him,
His voice deep and deliberate,
Strong and slow,
Just two words,
Four syllables,
'Wakan Tanka' is all I hear,
His bare arms glisten,
His muscles honed to perfection,
And folded defiantly,
Across his chest,
And suddenly,
I too, am strong in his presence,
And nothing can harm me,
For he is there, he says,
To honour and protect me,
And I believe in him,
My Indian brave,
My light and my guide,
I do not know his name,
In his realms, names mean nothing,
But I have a need to honour him,
And I call him Two Blue Feathers,
For I can see, that's what he wears.
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Two Blue Feathers
Two Blue Feathers