A haunting poem that speaks to us all…
The songs of seasons
A Story by Coyote Poetry
A Native American tale.
Warm days, cold nights.
Create an restless passion.
I can hear the whisper of the wind
on a solitary hill.
Old Mother Nature is calling for aid.
The water is sick with pollution.
No great forest for the animals to live and roam.
Poison is in the air.
Killing man and the trees.
The song of fall.
Sweet death begins.
Leaves turn the trees to artwork.
The splendor of the of the change in season.
Leave the wise in envy of the great gifts of nature.
I find a solitary spot and burn some sage.
I pray for Nature and man. I say out loud family and friends names.
I drink a beer for my Soldier friends lost in war.
I pray to dance with my elders one day.
It is a…
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