Manataka American Indian Council
An Open Letter To
By Elk Looks Back
song written by Robbie Robertson and Jim Wilson on his C.D. Robbie
Roberson and the Red Road Ensemble, the song entitled, 'Ghost Dance'
sums it up for todayís scourge against the peacemakers of today and in the
past. Here are the lyrics.
has brought the message
the children of the sun
the return of the buffalo
for a better day to come
can kill my body
can damn my soul
not believing in your God
some world down below
donít stand a chance against my prayers
donít stand a chance against my love
outlawed the Ghost Dance
we shall live again. We shall live again
has the red paint
died at Wounded Knee
a latter day saint
got the big drum in the distance
in the sky
the sound that you hear
the buffalo cry
Horse was a mystic
knew the secret of the trance
Sitting Bull the great apostle
the Ghost Dance
message to all tribal nations. Come on Choctaw
donít stand a chance against my love I stand beside all peace makers who
turn the other cheek And choose to win freedom with love and understanding.
say continue to pray for the understanding of love. This is where the
miracle can happen in your life, with your families, in your communities, in our
reservations and pueblos. Our understanding of love will be the staff we lean on
in troubled times. It will part the
winds of deceit, treachery and war. Our
hearts together will restore the plan for peace among all nations.
This is the plan. This is why we are here.
I honor my friend Grand Chief Woableza for turning the other cheek when his body was struck down by people who are struggling to be Human Beings. You beat someone who has nothing you may take. He has no home, yet he posseses the strength of many nations. He came only to walk with everything to give, to keep the stories alive, and to sit in a sacred way with your hearts. You have kicked his body down but now his heart.
can feel it in my heart. I can hear
it in is voice. His heart soars
mighty like the wamblee galeskah. As
his friend, I say to those who oppress others with their fear, you donít stand
a chance against my love. For I will continue to love all of you as my brothers
and sisters, mothers and fathers, in honor of my Grandfathers and Grandmothers
and ancestors. We shall live again.
His healing is our healing. His
love belongs to all of us.
is dedicated to my father, Roger Petersen, born in Tyler , Minnesota, September
11,1924 and died peacefully in his sleep December 12,1999.
The last gift he gave to me was an old laminated place mat showing all
the indigenous tribes f North America. ďTake
this!," he said. This is also dedicated to John Lame Deer who gave me
a smudge bowl and told me to keep the embers burning while I placed my feet in a
hole in the ground filled with water.
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