Look there beyond the horizon,
Do you see all those bison?
This is where we must go,
To feed our people,
Do you know?
This is a sign,
From The Great Spirit,
In the wind, you must hear it.
All the things we have in life,
Are a gift we must treat right.
We need the land to live each day,
This, my son, is the native way.
If we harm the world at our feet,
Then this nature will crumble and we will not eat.
We love this land for what it gives,
Nourishment, our home, our life, and our kids.
We live from the land we hold dear,
But my son there is great fear.
Seasons change every year,
This is something that’s very clear.
If we don’t change where we live,
We cannot move with the wind.
We need these changes, it’s part of life,
We have to do this to survive.
We must move our tribe upstream,
This I was told in my dream.
If we do not do as asked,
Our tribe will suffer, we will not last.
New things come our way every day,
Son, this is the Native way.
This poem is an excerpt of a short story at the following link: