It Was Winter

A Prose Poem

 It was winter when he left the reservation. No one sought a vision in the winter, but he did. Maybe vision wasn’t the right word, but he needed cleansing from the despair, from the alcohol. It was good to be in the mountains again. The air lifted his spirits, the rocks were his strength.

He had everything he needed, a good mule, a good rifle, his bow (that he had made years ago), and some buffalo blankets. His heart was still grieving though for his people, and he knew that would take time. His mother dying was the final reason to leave.

Days later he was in front of a cave, with a fire going, when the vision did come. He saw his people being reborn. In the vision it was spring, and everything was blooming. They were strong again and happy. And he was in Canada, where his people were considered humans. He had a wife again, and she was expecting a child. She was happy, and free, instead of sick and dying.

He must take this vision back to his people, he thought, to encourage them. The end of all things was not yet.

They would all live again.

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

Image a scout from the Crow Nation, taken in 1908, source: Pinterest

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

Her Wedding Day

A Prose Poem

It was her wedding day, so yes, she could smile again. It was true that she was young and her husband was a little older, but he loved her deeply. He was kind and gentle, like the others of her tribe. Somehow, because of the terrible times of the past, they were all aware now of how important it was, to be loving. They longed for there to be peace, and love always.

It was a new day, the salmon were running again, and her husband was not only a good hunter, he had started working at the lumberyard. All the men said it had to do with the Great Chief in Washington, showing the first people respect. He loved the wilderness, and hunting so much, he placed great pieces of land aside, to protect it, and to keep it sacred. It was a good sign.

And here it was now, her time to be married. She looked forward to the future, and all that the Great Spirit had in mind. This picture was taken just after she had prayed for many strong children, and that she and her husband would love each other – always. She knew that it was good. It was very, very good.

 

 

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

Image of a First Nations bride, taken in the early 1900’s, from Pinterest

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

Fading Eagles

A Prose Poem

When a man has eagles in his heart, and fire in his pen, he knows what to write. He knows who he is. Strength and courage from a hawk, soaring, with a strong spirit. But when the eagles begin to fade, and the hawks no longer fly, he begins to wonder. Is his spirit strong enough without them? Does he need to have more time on the earth, and less in the clouds?

Even nature has its limits. As he prays, his pen begins to wander, looking for answers, looking for understanding. He walks a tightrope, leaning forward, pushing his way past doubt. And slowly he realizes, he does not have to have eagles, hawks, or even a lion in his heart (although he can if he wants to). It is all about the love. It has always been about the love. Love from above, and love for others.

It is always about the love, and that is what brings the strength, and the courage. His spirit soars now, and his pen has fire once again.

 

Peace.

 

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

Image of Hail Stone, unknown nation, from Pinterest

Blessings to everyone.

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

On This River

A Prose Poem

It was on this river that once flowed, her parent’s blood. She would never forget the image in her mind, of them running towards the river, screaming and praying, when the rifles rang out. Her parents went face down in the water, while she hid in the bushes. The white’s idea of war, included women and children. The did not fight like men. Even Grandfather died when his heart gave out.

The question was, now what, after 20 years? She didn’t like the white minister, he was always saying things that made people feel bad, but he did say one thing she liked. It was about forgiveness. As she watched the river flowing over the rocks, she was asking herself, could she? Could she no longer be angry and forgive?

She did learn that not all whites were evil, only some. Some were also for peace. She liked the people of the Quaker Tribe, they had love in their hearts. Some of the women even reminded her of her mother. She looked intently at the water. There was something here, something calling her, perhaps the Creator. But she could not, she just could not forgive. She prayed for strength, and decided she would try again tomorrow.

 

 

 

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

image from google

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

The Exodus

A Story Poem About First Nations People

Stolen horses,

women robbed,

of everything, teeth knocked out,

young men buried,

under the firewater,

and anger.

The hearts of the people turned darker,

than burnt out logs,

without a spark,

barely living.

They slept with hope,

dreamt of the valley,

where the people were born,

where they could tell stories,

and be free.

So they left in the morning,

five Arapaho families,

quietly walking,

realizing they would be chased,

but they needed their home,

to grow teeth again,

to eat real food,

and to feel the love,

seeing the Creator living.

All they ever wanted,

was peace.

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

The Sacred Canyon

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,

smoke rising.

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,

into vultures.

No one wanted,

another war.

 

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

Blessings to everyone and peace!

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

Grateful

                       Nez Perce Nation 1900

My brothers, you’ve taught me courage,

in the midst of disaster,

that there is a resurrection,

for those who keep fighting,

living in the memories,

yet free – with forgiveness.

You’ve shown me,

that creation does sing,

making sense of darkness,

and to always look up,

with strength, and compassion,

letting the heart flow.

You have taught me well, my brothers,

and I am forever,

grateful.

Note: Even though this is about First Nations people, I consider all people, my brothers, and sisters.

 

Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

Image from Pinterest taken in 1900

Blessings to everyone, and peace!

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

The Earth

I remember when the earth was young,

she could breathe more easily,

and she did not carry the weight,

of so many sins.

She did not have to bare her shoulders,

to be loved,

and the people came from her heart,

living in their bones, in their spirit,

free to love her, and to thank her,

in return.

They did not live far from her heart.

I don’t know what will become,

of her, of us,

I just hope we will be clean,

when we are turned into nothing,

but dust,

when we return,

to her heart.

 

 

Note: This was created from thinking about First Nations people.

Poetry and Image © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

Blessings to everyone, and peace!

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

Identity

If I had a language, and a culture,

like the first people,

I would hold on to them,

close to my heart,

holding on with an iron grip,

and I would spend time,

with brothers and sisters, and cousins,

dancing, singing, feasting,

enjoying the creation, the life.

And if someone took,

my brothers, and sisters, and cousins,

from me, I would be angry,

if someone took my language,

my culture,

who I am as a person,

away from me,

I would be angry,

if someone cut my hair,

cut off all our hair,

and threw it in the trash,

so we could look white,

I would be angry,

if someone put us in a school,

to practice being Christians,

to learn how to be white,

I would be angry.

Somehow though,

in order to survive,

I would have to let it go,

Somehow, I don’t know how,

but somehow,

I would have to learn,

how to forgive,

somehow.

Like Albert White Hat said,

“otherwise it will kill you”.

Forgive, somehow,

then I can be a real person, once again.

Note: This poem is about history, and in particular the boarding schools our nation forced First Nations people to go to. It was difficult to write.

 Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

top image from pinterest, additional images from google

Lakota Music in the Wind

When I hear the Lakota songs

the language,

I think of the wind pushing lodge smoke,

up into the sky,

and the hands of time reversed,

to when the earth was new,

not old and dirty.

Where mothers held their children,

singing lullabies,

and men sharpened their arrows,

dreaming of the next hunt,

food for the people.

Grandmothers, and grandfathers,

told stories then, teaching the people,

about love and honor.

There were no rifles yet,

and young children could run safely,

not worried about sickness or death,

medicine men, and medicine women, brought healing.

The people alive,

maybe it was not paradise,

but at least their spirits were free,

and their culture flourished.

I love hearing, Lakota music in the wind.

Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

“If you love nature, you will love people.”

Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

video from youtube, music by Earl Bullhead, artwork copyrights by original artists

image from pinterest