Blood Flows, Tears Fall Like Rain
My bloodline draws me so much closer,
To this richest and finest of earthen clay,
My native heritage does so beckon me,
To come here, as I'm in a church to pray.
Wild forests scents bring me so close,
By some streams, many creatures there.
Make me long for their special company,
In both the moonlit night and in the day.
The majestic hawks, wild ducks, the owls,
And the families of grey geese all may call,
As the brown deer and scampering fawns,
There each does dance across green lawns.
The grey squirrels and raccoons, night birds,
Each so precious and has their special tones.
Watery homes, of swimming fish and turtles,
As every new day does so rise at the dawns.
In times of old, the fine animals all played,
Where then each was all so free to roam,
And the Red Man lived as one with them,
Here where there was a gentle forest home.
But now there were no marauding armies,
Or of those fierce soldiers all to do wrong.
Days were calm, and very quiet back then,
And in their moonlit nights, all to sleep long.
As time moved on, settlers came in droves,
And they were to claim almost everything,
The home that once was his now was gone,
As death and destruction, this were to bring.
The new people who were often unforgiving
And in their violence, showed this trait to all,
They soon rounded up all the Native families,
Made them march in long lines or were to fall.
The place where once a warming sun,
Gently spread light over the woodland.
Colorful bright birds flew in azure skies,
In their lofty heights, soared unscathed.
The dew spread morning's nourishment,
Over all of the green, of its wide canopy.
Summer rains, good to God's creatures,
Gave a fond sustenance, all as if bathed.
A once beloved sanctuary for big and small,
Now every living thing to be under an attack,
The unwise and greedy ones were a scourge,
As if goodness had suddenly turned its back.
The Redman, his family then all had to leave,
Each to pack up and then move away forever.
Never to return or as the many were so slain,
Or then forced to walk in long lines, their track.
Some of the strongest Native tribes,
each fought so bravely, pushed back.
Not in allowing their own persecution,
Or then to be so severely wronged.
They drove some of those big forces,
Of that new invader's armies far away,
For was always meant to be their land,
And is where they all had so belonged.
Tribes of the many, each one marched,
Independently had these all to flee away.
There they did find their own new land,
And perhaps just in fighting another day.
They joined with their brothering tribes,
And then lived there well in much peace.
There it was a quiet more civilized time,
As all the wars had then begun to cease.
So many had walked across this great land,
Was in Oklahoma, to be their own trail's end.
Here is where they found a brand new home,
And was a better message of hope to send.
They endured and all achieved through faith,
And through an undeniable self-determination.
Each Native tribe came to its rest at long last,
Showing fortitude, of courage's own affirmation.
The Native People had been all so wronged,
As their very lives were taken away from them.
They're deserving of the most apologetic tribute,
And our prayers to God on high, as in a hymn.
Money, or of any payment, can never so repay,
Harm was done, not to compensate in any way.
The souls of the Native people, stronger by far,
For each child in heaven, to have their own star.