The Native Way

The earth, with the layers of our soul, our spirit, the ashes of bone, the colors of flesh

The sky, in a prism of sunrise, sunset, and the power of a rainbow, after fallen rain

In wisdom, our native men have known, that mother nature, can not be forsaken, each thread must be webbed

Can not be mistaken, can not be taken for granite, it must be blessed, it must be worshiped

And we must talk to it, and respect the every limb of the tree, every feather upon the bird

And the eye of the eagle, shall guide us, and the whistle of the flutes, shall sing a song

Pouring out, the prism of wisdom, the shining triumph, of a greater tomorrow, we must follow

Seeing equal figures, of all mankind, though, like the snow crystals from the sky, at times they are transparent, they melt

With light so bright, it can reach into our bodies, and touch our hearts, while we reach to the surface once again

Smell, the green fields, eat fish from the purest of lakes, and paddle down the lakes of glory, another wave, takes a chance

Take one day at a time, each step, one more, and live in wisdom, we shall hunt fur, with the warmth of a pelt

The native way, to feel life within, to fulfill, to endure, to know you are pure, as the spider crawls, its legs will dance

The power of a native world, and the clay will sculpt a new generation, just close your eyes, and you shall feel