Thunder. Is His Name

His people are his vision, family his life, his women his passion
Like the sky of clear blue aqua gems, like the bronze copper of the stones
He rides high into the moutaintops on a black stallion horse
Looking down to his Cherokee tribe, making sure they survive
His arrow hunts the biggest deer, his knife pours out its blood in thanks
Night falls and his heart is drawn, to the naked skin of a woman
Where the two of them rustle in the dark and make their flames of desire
The wolf howls in the distance as the man named Thunders voice echoed in the trees
Keep the dreams of the night, and whisper in her ear the spirit of love and devotion
The rain begins to fall in sheets,  the evening begins to quench the wet
The wild. from the forrest, take heed to sleep
Restless are those who awake the morning. after without warning
As the attack could be anytime, white man with their bad intentions 
Never the less, Thunder will find the peoples spear has lifted 
Into the lightening of the sky with the power of  hands honor in his namesake 
They shall be driven away once again 
From the world of native peace called the Cherokee 
While moons light  reflects upon the minds of those who follow in his footsteps, and his beliefs