"American Indian the FORGOTTEN MINORITY "



Saturday, May 29, 2010


Winds of My Spirit Path

I hear the winds blowing, they are starting to blow harder, they are wanting my attention telling me it’s time to go.

Now the winds are howling, they are getting impatient, I hear what your saying and I am getting ready to go.

Winds of my spirit path so anxious to take me there, can you not see I have so far to go. Which path do we go, which one are we to take? I have finished my path to the north, I have also gone to the East and come back through the South.

I have traveled for years to get here at this point, I still have far to go before I will reach the end of my trek west.

I’m trying to remember all that you have taught me, and to share with
others bits and pieces, here and there.

This is my Sacred Path the one where I learn, this is my Spiritual Path to give back more than I am. I listen to the winds and the soft words they have to say, the meanings behind them are filled with such powerful energy and the preciseness of each can be felt down deep into my soul.

I hear the winds blowing, they are wanting my attention, they are getting impatient and anxious waiting for me to go.

Winds of my spirit path are blowing harder and howling louder, they are trying to tell me I need to hurry and go, I still have so much to learn and to do before my time is up.

I hear the winds blowing, the winds of my spirit path, they are ready for me now and I have to go so far. This is my spiritual path I must go alone, to give back to others more than I am. Winds of my spirit path will carry me home.

lah

(copyright 2010)

the American Indian Picture at the top was
taken from the web site of FirstPeople.com

Whispers on the Wind

Can you hear the noise, all the gun shots and the wailing?
Do you hear the voices crying? Can you hear what they’re
saying, the whispers on the wind?

It’s very strange, sounds a million miles away, bits and pieces here
or there. When the wind starts to blow it’s like bringing to us the
sounds of long ago.

I remember the stories we were told of what did happened so long
ago to all the peoples of the land, not just to us but all of the other
that had our color.

Can you hear the noise, here it comes again. Do you hear the wailing,
the voices and the crying? Can you hear the words, tell me what they’re
saying, can you hear the whispers on the wind?The wind is getting stronger, now it’s blowing harder. I can hear a
voice begging for a life. Now I hear a baby crying. Gun shots are
ringing in my ears, with the loud brutal voices of many men I fear.

Why do they want to kill us, to wipe us from our lands? We tried to

make them welcome, we gave them food and clothes. They were done
no harm. Yet they were relentless in everything they did, to totally
eliminate us so we would be no more.

Can you hear the noise, here it comes again. Do you hear the wailing,
the voices and the crying? Can you hear the words, tell me what they’re
saying, can you hear the whispers on the wind?
lah
(copyright 2010)
The American Indian Picture at the top
was taken from the web site of FirstPeople.com