The Return..KEYWORDS: Native american poem native american poetry indian poem
AUTHOR: Little Heart Flower
Downward trodden in this valley of great hunger.
My wounded spirit lies dry upon the barren
floor of life.
My skin a withering road map.
Eastern winds around me blow.
While in the north no more does my star glow.
Dark cloud is at my door
in this my house made of evening light.
I see the universe.
I see myself.
It is in the wind that gifts me life
and when it ceases with my ancestors i go.
As my interior becomes cool
i return to that where false never was.
Over the line where sky kisses earth
as a spirit
–Little Heart [email protected]