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 EYES OF THE EAGLE
I dream I’m the mighty eagle
soaring in the great spirit’s sky,
I see the birth of new beginnings and the death of the old as their turn comes to die.
I smile with approval as the young are being taught,
Survival of the fittest and that many battles will be fought.
I climb higher and higher until I reach the top of the sky,
To find the great spirit of all and ask him the question of why.
Hear me, oh great spirit, my people don’t understand,
Why you took from us our freedom and gave away our land.
He said he was sorry for making my people sad,
But, for the betterment of the world, it was the only choice that he had.
JRS © 9-20-02
The "Okie" Poet
All poems copyrighted
ã1997-... Spring Creations
The "Okie" Poet
All Rights Reserved
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