Wednesday, October 8, 2014

Sand Creek























“There was a big meeting at the head of White Clay Creek, not far from Pine Ridge, when they came back, but I did not go over there to hear, because I did not yet believe. I thought maybe it was only the despair that made people believe, just as a man who is starving may dream of everything good to eat.I did not go over to the meeting, but I heard all they had to tell. These three men all said the same thing, and they were good men. They said they traveled far until they came to a great flat valley (Mason Valley, Nevada) near the last great mountains before the big water, and there they saw the Wanekia (One Who Makes Live), who was the son of the Great Spirit, and they talked to him. Washicus (White People) called him Jack Wilson, but his name was Wovoka. He told them that there was another world coming, just like a cloud. It would come in a whirlwind out of the west and would crush out everything on this world, which was old and dying. In that other world there was plenty of meat, just like old times; and in that world all the dead Indians were alive, and all the bison that had ever been killed were roaming around again.” From Black Elk Speaks
Sand Creek;
the truth dances like a ghost,
a mighty wind whispering
through the silence of the night;
who will hear the voices?
who will right the wrong?
it is hard to love,
when so much injustice abounds,
hard to forgive, when innocent blood
runs across stolen ground,
dirty little secrets hidden in time,
deep dark memories of which
no one speaks;
you can never escape the past;
it follows you like a shadow,
softly surrounding you like a glove,
slowly blending into who you are,
silently determining what you become;
the treachery and cowardice revealed,
the self-made bravado and
false heroics, silently exposed,
sons of murderers,
daughters of liars and thieves,
descendants of swine,
a little lower than dogs,
somewhat less than human;
without honor,
without dignity,
without hope;
their homes built upon
hypocrisy and greed,
their tongues filled with
misconceptions and lies,
their legacy stands like a wavering
deck of cards,
waiting to crash down
upon their guilt-ridden heads;
Sand Creek remembers.
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