Paul G

Posted by:
cougartracks

A shimmering mass of white captures my sight,
Far out in the distance a massive image of buffalo,
Dressed in shaggy white,
Stares across an empty plain dissecting ever inch,
Of hallowed ground,
Living in hope of discovering the lost ones,
Mountains form a back ground to a scene of nothingness,
Snow laden peaks glowing in the purest of white,
Icy winds sweep the grass that use to be green,
Barron land--empty land that use to hold so much life,
Is now void,
A land that has seen people come--people go,
A land that supported uncountable numbers of buffalo,
A land that now has one solitary buffalo standing,
On a lonely prairie,
A land that has one Indian standing in isolation,
Two lonely souls of the one spirit gaze out across the prairie,
At each other,
Then the white buffalo starts to trot,
Then he stretches out into full mode,
Leaving a trail of dust behind him-as he heads straight for me,
He gallops across an open book, across hidden history,
To be reveled,
As he gets closer buffalo appear in his wake,hundreds of buffalo,
A mass of brown cover the ground,
A riving, riveting motion of thundering enegy,
Shake the very ground-dust conceals the sun what do i do,
Run,
Then behind me i hear laughter,
I swing around to see people of another time,
Tee Pees hundreds of Tee Pees, horses hundreds of them,
Where did they come from?
Why have they come?
The white buffalo is heading straight for me,
I am frozen:
Iam frozen in time,
I just can not move,
When i think my time is over this massive bull stops,
He now walks towards me and gently puts his nose on my chest,
He oozes with spirituality and greatness,
He speaks to me, all will be revealed-a new day has been born
A new day made from the old days,
All that use to be has returned,
Happy days, days like no other are here,
See the eagle fly's in a powder blue sky,
See the lightning dancing over yonder peaks,
Telling us the master of breath is here,
The ancient ones will walk amongst us again,
A rainbow glows in vibrance and the sun shines,
To tell us that the Great Spirits on his way,
Our mother Earth has recovered from the white mans plunder,
Now it's aboriginal time, world wide it's our time,
Rewarded for the loving care that we gave the blue star,
His star our star.
My Vision my Dream Osceola Birdman Waters.
copy righted

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