Little One

Follow my footsteps, my little one.
I will teach you the ways of an Indian's son.
Listen softly the drums of heartbeats of two become one
Hear the flute of the gift, Great Spirits pure hearts beat in unison

Walk softly and quietly my son, and
I will show you the path the great buffalo run.
Feel their strength flow in your veins
Mother Earth has provided the chosen one

Stay in the shallows when you come down here,
so as not to scare the little deer, and run
Drink of her waters, silently flows clear in your hand
Refresh your heart from Mother Earth, be one without fear

A knife and a bow are the weapons of your people, my son,
no need for the white mans guns
Head my lessons of this earth, to kill food for you family, in their time of need.
Mother Earths gifts to you, never forsake, greed will find stomachs
of babes empty and bleak
Eat of the meat, with hunger, cover with the hides with cold
Never for anymore, forsake always greed, it will only leave you to grieve

Quiet, my son, and listen to me, our people are strong, but they will not always be,
as strong as now, in their time of need.
Chosen hearts free of selfish need, with her love to keep you safe
Pray to the Great Spirit and he will gift you Her guidance, to all your needs

Hush, little one, and listen to
me.

turtle 1999 ©
Beaver Tree Originals

Revised from original poem 'Little One'
If only we could turn back time and live that way again.