Ardoch Pow Wow

Traveling the Mississippi River,
Along these banks of crimson red.
Our paddles cut through the water,
As these falling leaves are shed.

The surface of these waters
Looks as fragile as glass.
The rhythm of our blades
Breaks the silent picture of,
Both now and in the past.

We are on are way to Ardoch,
To the Pow Wows mystical grasp.
Where our Aboriginal Fathers
Beat their drums of thunder
And sang their songs and chants.

With our sweet grass and our pipes,
We follow the trails of long ago.
Of the Algonquin people who made this trip
With arrow and with bow.

Over lakes and along the shore
By the rapids thunder roar.
Following the trails of the portage
As our moccasins shuffle go.

The smoking fires in the distance
Tell us we are almost home.
As the thunder drums speak of peace
And come brother come.

© Thunder Wolf (Keith Larocque)