PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

The moon hangs above the ground, leaving behind it's silver light
In the Plains I seem them dancing calling my name.
"Come Bright Spirit" They call out to me, "Join us as we remembr days long past"
I hear the cries of women and children, as they sing to The Great Spirits of the Earth.
I hesitate, not knowing if this is real or a dream.
I close my eyes and remember.

I remember of days when life was simple, as the Plains People roamed with the Buffalo.
I remember of the sounds of men and women and small children, talking and laughing.
I can see the village and I can see the people, my people, my ancestors.
They smile at me and I know I am home.
They smile and I know I belong here.

I can see the large bonfire and I can see them dancing around it.
I feel the pulse of the drums and I feel myself moving to the beat.
We move around to the natural beat of the drummers and the voices.
I lose myself in my memories, and I open my eyes.

It was nothing but a dream, but the memories stay alive
We must remember who we are and where we came from.
They will not beforgotten, for they have not been.
They live on in us, and hope for a better future.
So long as we remember, they will never die.
Their voices are echoed through our action.