A poem for you today folks.....

I wrote this some time back.....
It still tells a powerful story though.....
We must not lose our language and cultural ways.....
We cannot lose them, for they are intertwined.....ya can't have one without the other.....
Read and enjoy.....and think deeply on the message therein....

Nin se Neaseno.



Look at my Horse!
By: Donald Perrot 


I was standing somewhere

Looking at the sights of this world

And they told me I was too old to stand there,

So I told someone,

Hey mister, look at my horse.

She sure is fast,

She can sure run like the wind.

Look at her mane and tail, mister,

Did you ever see anything so beautiful?

Oh, they wouldn’t even look at my horse,

So I told them I knew of many horses,

And many riders who still trusted in horses.

I told them I could still ride like the old ones,

And keep up with the people who move as ghosts

In the wind at night and in the moonlight.

I told them we were a part of the horses

Because the horses were us,

And we were the horses.

Our Ways of Life are the horses

We ride throughout eternity

And beyond when you shall see us no more,

But wonder just where we all went,

On some moonlit night when shadows grow long,

And stories grow old with not even one

Storyteller around to finish the tale.

Hey mister, look for the wheel

Which shall come around again,

Looking for the paths to finish what

We have only begun to speak and do.

No, they didn’t want to listen to my drum,

Nor my songs, nor my stories, or even brush

My horse’s back or clean her fetlocks,

Or caress her hooves from the long trails

She had traveled for me and them.

Now they cry in the moonlight,

For some of the beauty I tried to tell them of

And whimpers can be heard midst the voices of little ones,

Who ache to hear the old stories once again.

Days when I told them of my old horse

And the winningness of her gallop,

And the sureness of her hoofbeats,

Beating a staccatto on well worn buffalo paths

They didn’t even know about.

I still love my old horse,

And still ride her in the moonlight,

When no one is about.

It matters not that no one sees her

To admire the beauty of her ways.

All that matters is that I still love and trust

Her and still want to ride her,

On moonlit nights when all is calm

And full of sweetgrass memories.

I shall yet love her and go on with her

Marveling at her sureness, and steady gait,

And strength that brought me through then.

From one who knows love then!

Nin se Neaseno...
Copyright 2004