A Legacy in Time

The birch trees lined up in a row, where the violets bed below, the silver mounds of moss, the clovers, with pink bunny tail blossoms

The red headed woodpecker feeds from the branch, spirits call out, they echo in my head, as I canoe, down the winding river path

A red hawk cries out, then swoops down with his talons, catching a brown field mouse, as I oar, a striped bass jumps from the waters

The lavender, shades of blue, tint the sky, a mother deer, and her fawn look up at me, in surprise, as I pass them by, they startle, run away

A family of turtles, lay in a row, across a dead fallen tree over a bank, they see me, and one, by one, jump in to swim, to the other side

My arms, getting tired, but my mind is sharp, as I dream of a legacy in time, the way my grandfather, and his father did, the Cherokee way

Pleasures, and disappointments in each ripple of the water, the reflection of native people, who nurtured this earth, gave it respect

A dragonfly, with metallic green, and silver wings, with a zigzag pattern, hurriedly, flies on his journey, farther in the distance, I hear the black crow

Where this path takes me, I shall float away, looking for lost ancestors, in the dark, of the hunter green forest, the spirits call, as the wind directs me, to another day

To touch the water, to dip it up, with cupped hands, to taste its cool, to run in the violets, with bare feet, as I find a patch of morel mushrooms, some as big as my fist

The blue spruce, with a twigged nest of baby blue birds, awaiting their breakfast, below, the dance of the monarch butterflies, as they flutter from daisy, to daffodil, as though playing a game of tag

Where I first learned how to swim, to spear a fish, remembering not to fear, as a brown bear walks across the shallow stream of rocks, I breathe deep, as my Chiefs name, was Running Bear

He wore a head dress, of one hundred feathers, proud, to bare no arms, unless it was chosen, to wear the rattle of the diamond back snake, for protection

The spirits of the wind, whistle a flute like song, singing to my soul, to my heart, a legacy in time, the waters path, to eternal being, sacred, and righteous

My boat travels these waters, with my mother, my sister, my brother, in the mirrors of reflection, now, my son, will grow, to know this story, the book

I shall write, the picture, I shall paint, the flowers I shall plant, and the song, I shall sing, the circle of our life, let it never be broken

May the dreams be etched in the stones, with the water bathing across the smooth of the strength, while the tree tops will be filled with white dove

I will be inspired by the cross that buried, the spirts now,  free to speak, to be with me, with my great grandchildren, in an evolution, of time, and a place to love