Common Tribe
I once read that as bitter March winds
blew Crazy Horse cradled his daughter’s
still body in his arms and lay down with
her on a small burial platform as she died
from the white man’s cough. She was called
They Are Afraid of Her, his only daughter.
As this greatest of all Sioux men held her
tightly in a red blanket the wolves sang a
beautiful chorus and she was lifted into a
better heaven than our own. I am not a
Sioux chief but I am a father so I believe
he tried to summon her back to life as Jesus
did to Lazarus, but found he was too late.
I read further that ravens black as pitch
began to circle overhead the lifeless red
bundle as Crazy Horse rode away hard
with tears loosened by the cold wind that
blew the colder stars around the sky.
Then, as a father, I became so lost in my
own visions I simply could read no more.
As a mother I am often lost to those thoughts.
I can’t fathom the strength it must have taken to ride away.
This is so moving and Beautifully written. The small corner of my heart that’s Native American has expanded to overflowing. Thank you.
Yes, “as a father, I became so lost in my own visions, I could read no more”……
Dad
[…] Songs series is another good representation of writing it real. John Blase does it with poems like “Common Tribe.” Emily Weirenga brings it in her book, Chasing Sillouhettes. (Speaking of which, Emily’s […]
[…] Songs series is another good representation of writing it real. John Blase does it with poems like “Common Tribe.” Emily Weirenga brings it in her book, Chasing Silhouettes. (Speaking of which, Emily’s latest […]