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What is Love?
by
© wolf_free_heart


Is love to be measured?
Is it shallow or manufactured?
Or are tears stained with blood and upon our pillows, to those we
fight for. We believe in. Our Heritage.

My sister believes in me. Why? Love. My love for our people can
sometimes fade in the obstacles of pain, but does that love remain? I
would rather die than not call myself Native American. Why? Love.

Love does not judge. It corrects.
Love does not hinder individuality. It brings it forth.
Love does not abuse. It heals and mends those who know not its
elegance.

Our people if the vision perish. They will. As our beliefs lay in
love, truth and honor. May ancestors strike me dead, if I forget this
privelage of my blood. My heart. My spirit.

Always and forever we will remain. No one can take our Native Spirit
from us. NO ONE!

Tali Unole