TRAIL   OF  TEARS

Native American

Prayers and Poetry
Page 3

THE

TWENTY   THIRD  PSALM

(AN   INDIAN  VERSION  )

The GREAT   FATHER  above a SHEPHERD CHIRF is.

I am His and with Him I want not.

He throws out to me a rope

and the name of the rope is love

and He draws me to where the grass is green

and the water is not dangerous,

and I eat and lie down and am satisfied.

Sometimes my heart is very weak and falls down

but He lifts me up again draws me into a good road.

His name is   WONDERFUL .

Sometimes, it may be very soon, it may be a long long time,

He will draw me into a valley.

It is dark there, but I'll be afraid not,

for it is between those mountains

that the SHEPHERD   CHIEF  will meet me

and the hunger that I have in my heart all through life

will be satisfied.

Sometimes he makes the love rope into a whip,

but afterwards He gives me a staff to lean upon.

He spreads a table before me with all kinds of foods.

He puts His hand upon my head and all the " tired "  is gone.

My cup he fills till it runs over.

What I tell is true.

I lie not.

These roads that are   " away ahead " will stay with me

through this life and after;

and afterwards I will go to live in the Big Teepee

and sit down with the SHEPHERD  CHIEF  forever.

-- George Hunt                 

( Kiowa )                     

GIFTS OF THE GODS

They have given me of soft goods,

Good and beautiful skins and furs,

And of hard goods,   beads and haliotis shells,

Of many domestic animals

And of animals to hunt,

Corn of the rainbow color,

Black clouds,   mists,  male-rains

And the soft gray female-rain,

Lightning,   plants,  and pollen

For my voice,   my limbs,  my mind;

I am beautiful

In gratitude.

-- Eda Lou Walton                                       

REMNANTS

Deserted towers and sacred kivas

Built in cliffs beneath the sky,

Mere remnants of an ancient culture

In desolated ruins lie.

Petroglyphs with secret message

Modern age cannot unfold . . .

Strange , unigue ,mysterious carvings

Of tribal legends yet untold.

Why went this race and left none after

In sunbaked homes of earthen floor ?

Rain tower , watchtower , both deserted ,

Nothing now but Indian lore.

-- Viva Sue Lett                                  

THE   MARRIAGE DANCE

I weave my blanket red ,

I weave my blanket blue ,

I weave my blanket all my life

Until I come to you.

I bring my blanket red ,

I bring my blanket blue ,

They are the story of the wife

They gray chief sold to you.

I spread my blanket red ,

I spread my blanket blue ,

I spread my blankets for your bed ;

We belong now to you.

-- Unknown                                             

THE MOCCASINS OF AN OLD MAN

I hung you there , moccasins of worn buckskin .

I hung you there and there you are still .

I took you from the hot flesh of a swift buck .

I took  you to my woman .

She tanned you with buck brains .

She cut and sewed and beaded .

I wore you with pride .

I wore you with leaping steps over my grounds .

Now , I sit here and my bones

are stiff with many winters .

You hang there and I shall sit .

We shall watch the night

approach.                                                            

-- Romona Carden                                  

( Colville )                                       

THE  ROCK

The rock lays near

While light comes and goes

The rock only exists

Said to have no soul

The rock cannot be sad

It knows not the time

It has nolife to hold

It can't feel love

As we admire it

It remains in stillness

Yet in its own way

May watch !

-- Lloyd Carl Owle                                           

( Cherokee )                                              

INDIAN  PRAYER   AT  EVENING

One sunset hour

Wrapped in sacrificial fire

Then shall I enter thee ,

Spirit of all sands ,

And Thy night

Will cool my small desire

to be among my kinsman.

-- Eda Lou Walton                               

FINAL  VISION    

Life is the flash

of  a firefly in the night.                                            

It is the breath of the buffalo

in the winter                                                         

It is the little shadow

which runs across the grass                                    

and loses itself                                                      

in the sunset.                                                         

-- Crowfoot,                                          

( Blackfoot )                                     

Black Elk's Prayer

Hey-a-a-hay! Lean to hear my feeble voice.

At the center of the sacred hoop

You have said that I should make the tree to bloom.

With tears running eyes I must say

The tree has never bloomed

Here I stand, and the tree is withered.

Again, I recall the great vision you gave me.

It may be that some little root of the sacred tree still lives.

Nourish it then

That it may leaf

And bloom

And fill with singing birds!~

Hear me, that the people may once again go back

To the Sacred Hoop

Find the good road

and the shielding tree.

-- Black Elk                                          

A PRAYER OF THE AMERICAN INDIAN

Oh Great Spirit

Let your voice whisper righteousness in our ear through

the West Wind in the late of the day.

Let us be comforted with love for our brothers and sisters

with no war.

Let us hold good health mentally and physically to

solve our problems and accomplish somethig for

future generations of life.

Let us be sincere to ourselves and our youth

and make the world a better place to live.

-- Lloyd Carl Owle                

(Cherokee)                     

INDIAN   FAREWELL

" Until we meet again may the Great Spirit

Make sunrise in your heart.

And may your moccasins make tracks

In many snows yet to come."

-- Author Unknown                         

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