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You
~ Soldier Blue

There was no
Foresight
There was no
Hindsight
Only eye sight

The olde ones
Upon the rolling hills
Ta-dse_do-ba_ha

The division of
The four winds
At their backs
The bones of desparation
Become the taste
Of the stinging air
The only reality
Besides bullets
And the black birds
That flye
Waiting for that first
One...to fall before
The soldiers
Waiting their 7th generation
Children
To learn 
About the past
The past that would
Lend them strength
For the future

Titles meant nothing
Then
They mean even less
In these days 
Of hollowness and rime
Ice sliding down their backs
The wa-mo^-pshe-the
The olde ones...the
Ghosting ones shadows
Ever with us focus
On what it is...
To survive!!

We ride 
To remember Bigfoot
In memoriam
We ride
Singing our songs
For the Isanti Dakota thirty eight
Birth right and legacy 
Of sacrifice beyond nodding cheer
Of hollow days...
Wa´-tho^

The sacred smoke
Ever before
Our ancestors
Rising as high 
As the sunrise that
Dies not
Mi´-i-tho^-be_ts'a-zhi

We ride for all the
Olde ones 
most outsiders
Will never hear about
Their sacrifices for children
They would never see
Beyond dreams

It is a time 
Of memorial
These hollow days
And we as red earth
Zhu´-dse_mo^-i^-ka
Will be here..
To give them all
Their proper respect
As others with hollow eyes
And hollow thoughts 
Mouth words
They do not believe
Seven thousand
     Three hundred 
& ten 
Of our youth
Lost to the depredations
Of the....boarding schools
We were forced to endure
We....remember them too
As we enter into this 
season of
Hollow days




The Virgin of the Echota
~ Dawn Karima

This Queen, 
This Matriarch,
This Little Girl, tired from riding on a donkey,
Said "Yes"
And birthed this Holy Thing,
This Sacred Stone,
This Desire of Nations,
This Star of Heaven.
Did she cry as she gave him to the light?
Wrap her fingers round the wrist of the Innkeeper's Wife?
Taste the salt of Lot's Wife in each tear?
Years of yearning
Become burning,
Each time colonizers take in vain
The Name
By crushing cultures 
Her Son would have loved.


WEAVING THE MESSAGE 
~ Orannhawk 

painted wings 
inky black 
purple blue  
polished luster 
in the sun 

painted stories 
stones 
revealing  
mysteries 

ebony eyes 
distinctive raiment 
watching 
waiting 
searching the skies 

drop a line 
drop a feather 
do you see 
me 
are you 
listening 

wistful caws 
joyful trills 
watching 
waiting 
telling the stories 
weaving  
the  
message.