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Silent Moccasins

While traveling through mountains across the mighty plains
Where stories of the Indian Nations are only sighs of the winds
Proud spirits roam their once precious land
Walking through the valleys in silent moccasins

Grandfathers told stories of brave warriors from the past
As each generation recalled them from the last
They danced and sang songs to bring the rain
To nourish their fields of corn and grain

Gathered in a circle the prayer feather in their hands
Passing it to one another in reverence
Asking their Gods to watch over all of them
Now the only thing left is the whisper of the wind
As they go through eternity wearing silent moccasins

In their canoes the warriors paddled out across the sea
Chieftain warriors would gather with all of the rest of the tribe
The powwow was a chance to eat, dance and sing
Of the future and of all of their dreams

They moved across the land following the herds
Only taking what they needed to survive
Each time the game moved on to another place
They had to move if they wanted to stay alive

Medicine men made herbs to heal
They chanted ancient rituals
These were special men old and wise
They were reverend by all the tribe

Legends told from father to son
So that they would be passed on
They are told to this very day
As the children remember them in play

At the powwows all are dressed in native clothes
They gather together native games are played
Each one listening as the legends and stories told

When the world is silent and the wind is soft
If you stop what you are doing and listen
You will see ghosts of the warriors
As they walk with silent moccasins

© Kathy Lynn

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