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First People :: American Indian Poems and Prayers

Canine Behavior.

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Quiet Spirits

Sometimes in the quiet of the night,
when my heart feels heavy with care.
I sit and gaze into the sacred fire,
whisper to the Grandmothers in prayer.

My soul they bring me blessings,
wash my spirit in their love clean.
And I can hear them singing to me,
of why I walk this path and what it means.

To be a child of the ancient ones,
that now have long time past.
Reminding me they gave in sacrifice,
so our way of life would last.

A shadow in the distance I see,
one that lingers on into the dawn.
As though it is watching over all,
bound to Mother Earth it is drawn.

Suddenly a touch felt ever so lightly,
just a tender brush upon my skin.
The strong healing of rock medicine,
making way for a new journey to begin.

Knowing that no matter where it is I go,
always at my side one of them will walk.
Many hours passing time by seem silent,
my heart hears words of which they talk.

Peace settles gently falling like a mist,
the fire now has turned to embers low.
And with a breath of kindness,
I can feel their spirits in me flow.

© Copyright 11/29/2000 by HairDark aka Katherine Raborn. All rights reserved

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