I like to keep my eyes closed to the ways a man has wandered from the creation of God, in his grandeur...for the love of man...The love of woman....I don't want to witness the cesspool of a man's fear...and, doubt. I don't want to wait any longer, for the ones who need to 'figure it out.' I close my eyes and wander along the broken road...And, seek so desperately....To love my brother as God loves me...Yet, in all the world...in all the time...in all the space and intellegence....The lessons of the heart are the most hard won...Blindly, grasping with child-like fingertips....Why, won't you trust me...Just, to love you for you? And, my eyes are opened and I see what it is...I see the error of my way...It would be a sure sign of weakness to walk away...from those who push, those who rage and reason away the simplicity of a loving heart seeking them....So, who is really the student? Who is really the teacher? Who is really giving...Who, is really taking? There is no silence as loud as that of the kindness' left unsaid. There is no crime greater than a day not lived...I am reminded by the songs I sing...The songs handed down since the dawn of time...Carefully, gently, trustingly...Enduring every type of assault imaginable...And, it is in that one verse; That one pitch and tone...It is in the beat of the drum....Where, the right, true and correct relationship the ancestors had with God the Father, elevates my heart to a place so high above the earth....To move a teeny-tiny bit up in the starry sky....moves millions of miles. And to love is not a dream...To seek the goodness of all things is not naieve and foolish...These are realities. To sing a song; and hold onto a feather of the Pixtadax...to focus completely on God, the Father...And, let prayer echo outward into a darkened, saddened, frightened world...Where, men seek to dominate...Men, seek to reason away the goodness of God, the Father. Yet, sometimes I get to be so afraid; And, my heart gets to being so hurt....And, I am blamed for not being 'Tough' blamed for not being able to accept the hardened hearts and the careless lips..And, I close my eyes and remember to breathe in and breathe out...And, I begin again...to try and be a friend. It is possible...It really, truly is...Perhaps, if I open my eyes and see those in front of me....for the artwork they truly are...Perhaps if I open my heart even wider, dig even deeper...love even harder...There can be a ground to stand on...Yet, I look back on all the years of the life I have lived...Even into my mother's past; My grandmother's past; And, my great-grandmother's past...The people who come into their lives and loved, honored and respected them were far and few between...So, is there really such a thing as hope to open my eyes and see something...Time itself, history and the world itself is a hostile witness to me...To my people...What will happen...What will I see when I open my eyes?
I chose to place this "Verse" on its on page because of the intensity the message so proudly narrates to us all. I will include a part of this verse in the original page with Melisa's consent.
Melisa has a wonderful blog on her people and I have included that link for you all to see.
For those who may wonder, here is an explanation for a word I was not familiar with and yet a word that stuck in my mind because of the solidity and strength it imbues.......
Pixtadax (Quileute word for Eagle.) This I have borrowed from Melisa's page.
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