YELLOW HAWK'S FLUTE
I see the tepee silhouetted against the setting sun
The scent of burning cedar wood is in the air
Yellow Hawk's flute has a celestial sound
It rises above the rhythm of the drums
The drums keep time with the heartbeat of Mother Earth
My spirit rises with the melody of the flute
It travels above the trees and beyond the purple hills
It soars with the spirit of the eagle to the land of ancient birth
I walk the sacred ground where holy men have tread
Across the shadow lands on a pale moonlit night
The canyons of time crumble like sand in my hands
I am but a dark movement in the valley of the dead
I travel down the river and follow the sacred light
The serpent watches as I go deep into the darkness
He will not follow for I am on a sacred journey
I am hungry…I eat the bittersweet fruit of the tree of life
There is a fire in my belly and a fever in my soul
The purity of the Creator is like a thick blanket on a winter's night
The passion of my flesh is like a consuming fire in the desert
I am naked in the belly of the earth and I am cold
The Creator wraps his blanket of purity around me
The blanket is consumed in the flames of my passion
The smoke rises from the desert like a pure white cloud
The Creator and I are one…I am free
The sound of Yellow Hawk's flute rises above the sacred hills
The tepee is silhouetted against the campfire
Mother Earth's heart is pounding like a drum
And I know all that is-is that which is real
Copyright May 29, 2002 JGO/Spanky Mongo