Feather In The Wind

I have learned the ways

my father has spoken of;

the ways taught me

to be a man of my people.

He taught me respect,

to honor the sky which brings light,

the sun to give warmth,

the rivers which give comfort.

He gave me simple rules

to build my life, my home,

and one day take a wife.

It is like this very day,

I ride with my brothers,

bow and arrow in hand,

and take part in the hunt.

Grasping the mane of my pony,

swinging myself upward onto his sturdy frame,

legs kicking as we move as one;

today’s hunt has begun.

We ride across the vastness of the Plains,

yelling, screaming, anticipating;

my final test of manhood near at hand.

The ground trembles from the onslaught,

preparing both offense and defense;

an arrow pulled, bow-string taut,

pacing myself for what I want.

We ride alongside, waiting out the moment,

when we each sight our target;

patience, my father spoke of,

and I use that word to strengthen me.

My eyes, like my brothers,

lock onto my target, my prey,

and with all the knowledge given me,

I let my arrow fly straight and true.

The ground no longer trembles,

my brothers ride together,

as we count our kill.

One for each of us.

Today has been a good day.

Today, the Great Father shines,

bringing to us a good hunt.

Today, our people will eat hearty.

The buffalo will fill our bellies,

they will give us combs from their bones,

they will give us clothes and blankets,

they also give us sadness.

Father once told me

the buffalo will one day disappear,

just as he will.

Just as we all will.

But take comfort he said,

when we come to the Great Father,

He will have more for us to hunt,

more for us to be thankful for.

But today, I am no longer a boy,

I return home a man, a warrior,

and I see in the face of my father,

pride in unsmiling eyes.

I dismount,

give my father the ear of the buffalo,

he nods in acceptance.

His hand also stretches out with his gift.

A feather.

Grandchildren;

I tell this story because the buffalo are gone,

we are almost gone,

but only of this world.

As your father’s father told me,

we will all ride again.

Hold to your traditions,

keep our sacred truths,

do not let go the mercies Mother Earth,

and the Great Father give us.

Always remember,

no day is a good day to die,

if you forget your people, your family,

and those who give us all things.