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The Sacred Red Rock
The sacred red rock, found in this special land
Was slowly shaped by Native hand
Upon the windswept prairie of Minnesota
Where once roamed freely wild buffalo and proud Dakota
Smoked before battle, offered in peace
Sacred across this land no man could lease
So much has changed, so many traditions lost
Progress came, but at what great cost?
Was there real power in the rusty colored rock?
Or was it a fairy tale for comic writers to hock?
Yet still when the winds howl and blow
Ancient memories return from long ago
The spirits of forefathers echo across the grassland
Down the prairies the cool breeze moves the hand
Time will pass and settlers will reshape the holy ground
But chords of voices past chant a distant sound
The blessed stone no thief can ever steal
Hidden power to inspire and hearts to heal
It was no myth, this powerful magic was real!
The red stone is more than trading toys in a crooked deal
The Great Spirit lives and can still be found
On a quiet spring evening when wild blossoms abound
The holy stone can speak to the welcoming soul
It can calm the wounded, make the body whole
Before your journey passes and you return to dust
Visit the storied mines colored in soft hued rust
Walk the windswept prairie of Minnesota all alone
Feel the power and mystery of the haunting Pipestone
© 2016 Cain Pence
Cain Pence is a Minneapolis, Minnesota based writer. Mr. Pence is a graduate of Georgetown University and has traveled extensively throughout all 50 states. His poems have been published in numerous publications. He can be reached at firstname.lastname@example.org.
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