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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

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