Manataka American Indian Council

 

 

 

POETRY CIRCLE...


 

 

 

Manataka Pride!

By Luke Easter

 

Thousands of years worship was being conducted at this sacred site,

Elders of many nations from the four corners traveled day and night,

Some pilgrimages lasting several years to curative waters, Nowasalon,

Sharing the gift, Breath of Healing, as darkness blossomed into dawn.

 

Throughout the centuries there has been entirely to much lost to neglect,

But, The Manataka American Council exists to preserve and protect,

Now a poetic tribute to help elevate factual timeless covered-up rights,

Using former knowledge thereby enhancing the journey of modern life.

 

50's and 60's, were my informative years as I attended various schools,

Indiana, Ohio and New York it was all the same, Indian was bad news,

Every single movie or television show, only cowboys could be heroes,

Not until half a century later a fraction of the truth I'd come to know.

 

Farmers were only farmers because early Indians knew how to grow,

Would you ever learn that from American History books? Oh hell no!

Grade 5, the principal�s office he said, you're not Apache, be good,

Ah, no wonder we massacred tribes in the, Colored neighborhoods.

 

What nation would begin yelling & screaming before a surprise attack?

Wasn't anything wrong with shooting fleeing Braves dead in the back,

So, for centuries these, "savages" grew and, miraculously survived,

Yet, it if it wasn't for the settlers they would never become civilized?

 

One whole continent, a nation, their entire culture, destroyed by lies,

Sign here along with a handshake & a smile face-to-face, eye to eye,

Dare not look at their women but they could take squalls for wives,

Yeah, for many moons these tribes made it without being baptized.

 

�Manataka� is a spirit filled pathway of life lived on a higher plateau,

In reference to the Creator�s original purpose yet very few will know,

Although the return to grace in essence is a reality soon to be fulfilled,

Most will be cast in the valley unable to ascend the Great Spirit�s Hill.

 

A shadow cast by a heavenly rainbow will secretly guard and protect,

Under the guise of a rainstorm God�s true children fear not nor reject,

His discipline however will be too much for satanic imposters to bear,

And a headdress of many tribunal feathers they will be unable to wear.

 

Because there is no one sect, race, creed, religion or speech so strong,

That will be allowed access if they are unable with others to get along,

Every great, majestic Universe amongst the stars surrounding our sun,

Bright of light in Indian Culture from our Creator for He is the only 1.

 

Does the great oak belittle the majestic elm as it looks differently?

Are they both not rooted into Mother Earth for growth? Certainly!

Or, do they both breath the same air and drink the same waters?

So we absolutely love our sons as much as we do our daughters.

 

Like the wise standing ones we continually praise in thankful prayer,

For the many gifts our Creator has provided us both here and there,

We continually lift our arms yet not to question from whence water flows,

However, in meek & humble thankfulness, how else do the plants grow?

 

It makes no difference where the water comes from as we all must drink,

Even though there are at least a thousand & one different ways to think,

Gifts of our Creator were not made to belong to any one particular race,

Muslims, Hindus, Buddhists, Jews, Christians & all other religious faiths.

 

There are too many nations to declare from location or call out by name,

With the final resting place every difference becomes one in the same,

For the unjust His wrath will not be swift, there will be no place to hide,

No need too reflect on an evil past just go forward to, Manataka Pride.

 

By Luke Easter w/Elder, Lee Standing Bear Moore

Luke Easter is a 59-year old former U.S. Marine

and prolific author, poet and lyricist who heals the

world with an approach that reaches people on a

different level, one known for centuries, yet too

often forgotten in the one we live in.


 

 

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