AVAILABLE on amazon.com the way called beautiful
THE YOUNG WARRIOR
Pencil drawing by Zawanquit
The snows fell silently upon Mother our beautiful earth, as the young warrior stood viewing this long awaited white blanket that came to cover the land's nakedness...
She was warm beneath her pure, powerful white shawl and the
snows fell as snows had never fallen upon this young strong traditional
warrior...
The time was tragically history being repeated by the white
man chasing the red man across Mother our beautiful earth...
The place was in the Badlands of South Dakota and deep
within the black dark hills, where the red warrior struggled towards a group of
stunted cedar trees...
Safely under the snow laden branches, the young warrior
rested...
It was an inevitable death that approached the young warrior
and the coldness came strongly with a sleep much too long to understand...
A young deer walked away from the sleep claimed warrior,
walking softly in a direction towards Porcupine and as the warrior slept he
dreamt of the young happy smiling faces that once belonged to the people, now
his ancestors...
The young warrior knew the ancestors had come to save a
life...
The young deer neared the town where people milled about at
early dusk...
A man approached the people and spoke to them in the age old
tongue belonging to the Sioux...
The people went in to the Badlands
where they found the fallen warrior beneath the snow laden cedar branches...
They found him barely alive, if alive at all...
TO BE CONTINUED...
#thewaycalledbeautiful #helenbirdart
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