Where are you going, wolf so wise,
with your piercing amber
The kind that deeply look within,
as if you know just where I've been.
Where are you going? I must know,
your paws track through the snow.
Call to me from where you are.
From your destiny way afar!
CRY FOR ME LONELY WOLF
Cry for me, lonely wolf, and all of mankind.
Cry for our souls, we left far behind.
Cry for the sorrows, we've left on the earth,
the gratitude we give her, for giving us birth.
Cry for me, lonely wolf,
and look up and pray.
The tears that I've given, leave nothing to say.
I'd tell you I'm sorry, and that we'll be good.
I'd give you that promise, if only I could.
Cry for me, lonely wolf, your wisdom we need.
Show us your kindness, I ask and I plead.
Your intense amber eyes, search out our hearts,
You watch as we tear, the world all apart.
Cry for me, lonely wolf, as your echoing voice,
cries out to God, at our miserable choice.
Cry for me, lonely wolf, at your sacred prayer,
as you gaze at the stars, with your amber stare!
ODE TO THE WOLF
Do you hear the cries of the lone
wolf howling? Where
is his pack?
Where is his place? Lost, lost in
the human race. People at the pipe-
lines do you know, where are the
of the wolf? Why are they fading into the
mist? Soon you will hear only the drill and
the hammer. The cry
of the wolf will be gone,
soon to be heard no more! Unless we speak
for the wolf; be his voice. Before his tracks are
forever, never more to return. Oh, What
sadness that would be!!!
I looked into the
eyes, of a lonesome wolf one day.
And though I tried to fight it, I could not look away.
Deep inside the golden eyes,
a sadness I could see.
Trapped inside a dying breed, longing to be free.
Why does mankind abandon, nature's
and hurt the one's who guard her, as if it were a thrill?
Deep inside the wolf's eyes, I could see it all,
sadness fell upon me, as I heard his mournful call!
THE MAJESTIC HUNTER
Majestic hunter and lone traveler he made is way to
stream to drink. His beloved had the puppies to
watch and she couldn't come along. He heard a very
low whirring noise
and sniffed the air. He had a very
strange feeling. He came to the meadow and saw a
very big bird. The big bird was
heading his way and
seemed to come straight at him. Another strange
animal appeared from inside this bird with a long
stick that made a pang sound. He ran as
fast as his legs could carry him. He just had to
make it to the entrance to
the woods and some
how he felt he would be safe. He had his beloved
who would be waiting for him with a lick and his
who greeted him by pouncing all over him. He had to
make it home to his family and somehow he felt this
bird meant his death. The whirring noise got closer
and he'd been running it seemed forever. But now he
was only several
feet away from the woodland entrance.
He heard another pang and felt it hit his skin and go deep
inside. But still he
ran until another pang brought him down.
What would his beloved do? He'd never see his babies grow
up into proud hunters.
His last thoughts were why? Why did
the big bird want to kill him why? And as his spirit was slowly
drifting up higher
and higher he heard the strange animals.
He couldn't understand their laughter or their words as they
said," Look we
caught another one! This one will make a great
trophy on our walls."
Far across the plains, I heard the lonesome cry,
of the white wolf, as he sings his lullabye.
I looked out across the meadow, and saw him standing
He looked into my eyes, as if my soul was bare.
The beauty of his eyes, went straight to my heart.
Just the wolf and I, as if we were one part.
We understood each other, as things are meant to be.
Just the wolf and I, we were one family.
So every night I wonder, as I look up to the sky,
and hear the mournful sound, of the wolf's lonesome
Is that the white wolf, I did one day see?
The white wolf who went inside my heart, and became
WISDOM OF THE WOLF
The amber eyes, the soulful stare,
is more than my beating heart can bare.
The beauty tempered by a kindred heart,
wonders why we're worlds apart.
The wisdom in your eyes is clear,
and your gentle spirit sincere.
Past ages are there in your eyes,
as you say your prayers, underneath the skies.
In our greed, we are so vain,
we cause the world endless pain.
Sing to us your sacred song.
Teach us how to right our wrong!
VOTE FOR AN NATIVE AMERICAN HOLIDAY
say,is the voice of complicity. But silence is impossible. Silence screams. Silence is the message,just as doing nothing is
an act. Let who you are ring out and resonate in every word and deed. Yes,become who you are. There's no sidestepping your
own being or your own responsibility. What you do is who you are. You are your own comeuppance. You become your own message.
You are the message. In the Spirit of Crazy Horse."
Leonard Peltier~ U.S. Federal Prisoner
"A thing of beauty is a joy forever: Its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness; but still will keep
a bower quiet for us, and a sleep full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing."--John Keats