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Among the Stones


Sitting among the stones, a place where they cried.
The native stone, tongues speaking to me.
They weep still. Weep for what was done,
lashed by cruelty, tears flowing like the stream.

I am so sorry my sisters and brothers, children of God.
I weep for your suffering, I weep.
I weep for your spirit still roaming these lands.
I weep for your children's children
removed from such beauty by greedy hands.

Love starved by ravenous want,
stomachs empty, hands pleading with the elements,
feet stepping through the mist, through the water
made deeper by your sorrowful prayer.

Your path now ours, some still grinning their gold teeth,
still ravaging the truth for money,
a foul sport of kings and queens
bent on conquering what cannot be overthrown.

No more, says the birdsong.
Move along home now, whispers the babbling brook.
Go back, urges the wind.
Return now to your Home, pleads the sky.
Love and breathe, speaks the soil, the rock and water.
Go back, begs the stream, go back.
Return now, summons the hawk.

We never left, say spirits dancing on the edge.
We breathe still, they sing.
See us now? See our spirits, they beg?
We're still on the trail, feet in the spring.
We are Home, so are you child.
Welcome Home, they sing.

Mushroom, vine, tree, stone, soil, water,
sun, animal, (H)eartH, Heavenly Home.
I pray...

Peace

~

© 2013 the spirit of Love dancing through Mark Richard Prime

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