The Cheyenne drifted into the sacred canyon,
their spotted horses’ eyes,
filled with tears,
the sky was heavy.
They found a broken lance,
laying on the ground,
next to – a burned out lodge,
The wolves scattered,
going away hungry,
panting, and breathless.
The mourning song came,
and an all-night prayer meeting,
so they could have the strength,
to forgive, instead of turning,
No one wanted,
Poetry and Image © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree
Blessings to everyone and peace!
“If you love nature, you will love people.”