Manataka American Indian Council






An Open Letter To

Peacemakers of Today

By Elk Looks Back


The 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.

Crow has brought the message

To the children of the sun

For the return of the buffalo

And for a better day to come


You can kill my body

You can damn my soul

For not believing in your God

And some world down below



You donít stand a chance against my prayers

You donít stand a chance against my love

They outlawed the Ghost Dance

But we shall live again. We shall live again


My sister above

She has the red paint

She died at Wounded Knee

Like a latter day saint


You got the big drum in the distance

Blackbird in the sky

Thatís the sound that you hear

When the buffalo cry



Crazy Horse was a mystic

He knew the secret of the trance

And Sitting Bull the great apostle

Of the Ghost Dance


Come on Comanche

Come on Blackfoot

Come on Shoshone

Come on Cheyenne


We shall live again

Come on Arapaho

Come on Cherokee

Come on Paiute

Come on Sioux


We shall live again

This message to all tribal nations.   Come on Choctaw

You 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.

I 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. 

I 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.

This 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.

Mitakuye Oyasin!

Elk Looks Back




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