Sacred
Fire
When we were driven from our homeland,
the Old Man
hid the Sacred Fire
of our ancestors for safekeeping.Our bones
were weary from the grinding edge of battle.
Our minds were filled with so much confusion
we could not move from the places we had fallen.
When the Old Man blew on the embers,
a tongue of flame pierced
our center of despair.We beat our wings,
steadily,to keep the Sacred Fire alive
with the power of resistance.Day and night
we struggled to stay warm.Apprehension
melted.For three
hundred years of darkness,
we held on to light.The Sacred Fire
of existence is how we surived
the delusion that the efforts of our conquerors
last long
than the dead arrows of our ancestors.
By : Nancy
Wood