The wind blows softly through the grass,
Of yellow,brown and gold.
They sway in Tribute for those lost,
Their mournful stories unfold.
~
The path that leads up to the hill,
Where buried families lay.
Echoes the sounds of horses hoofs,
The ground feels to this day.
The graves-------all still------and yet-------
there's sound,
Of voices through the air,
~
Those cries you hear------ they're not the wind,
Souls asking you to care.
You stand there------- still--------- as voices cry,
The tears begin to flow.
You feel their pain and sorrow deep,
~
The Eagles cry from Sacred Sites,
Their scream heard far and wide.
Do not forget---------what happen here!
Lest history tries to hide.
The heart connects with Spirits deep,
~
To join them in their prayer.
They plead to mend the Circle now,
All Nations--------hands joined---------to care.
The Prayer Ties wave with gentle winds,
To join the swaying grass.
All Earth responds with prayers of hope.
For peaceful souls at last...
~~ Author Unknown ~~
