The Fire ( Trail of Tears)

Have you ever walked 1000 miles
in the dead of winter,
with no shoes, coat or blanket?
They left a 'Trail of Tears'

Three Feather's feathers were ruffled and his face
was scorched. His feet were a foot away from the flames. Staring at faces with no names, barefoot.

"Brightness burns
it's the hot kiss of the fire,
it's our savior and teacher."

Symphony rustles of ...
CLASHING AND LEAVES
Trees weeping with the howling wind
under a half moon's glow
darting from cloud to cloud
in the NIGHTS bitter cold

huddled around the red wood
Leather faces and long braids
of the homeless Indians,
sit the braves
concerned for their future days
silence befell the circle
burns an angry fire in their center
churning, sizzling and boiling

"The Dance of the fire is our anger ... the fire is like our enemy ... the fire makes things bright ... so that we can see. This is what grows inside of us. Consuming us as it does the wood. But we must feed the fire in order to survive. Let the fire of anger warm us and enlighten us."

The wind nipped and the cold stung
another days trek, heads hung, done
sitting by the fires light
another cold, winters night
fishing for the words
to fuel the Indian might.

From the land of the red clay
The Federal Government
ordered them to leave
for settlers and THE GOLD
they proclaimed
traded for the silver shade
of an Indian tear
"Indian, get out of here!"

the hike to
the great plains
wasn't so great

One foot in front of another
sister, mother and brother
The Creek, Choctaw and others
races bound together
and walked to their 'new home'
1000 miles away
in the dead
of winter
and snow

"Here we walked ... here we cried."
Three Feathers sighed
a tear from his eye
the raging fire dimmed
over shadowed mounds

The Trail of Tears