My Son


My Son, as I take pen in hand
My mind looks back across time and land.
To a time when Indians were free
To roam this earth, land and sea.

We were respected and had n fear
Of beast or hunger, for life was dear.
We'd roam the mountains and wide open plains
For there was no threat of death or pain.

Until on day the bad men came
With greed in their heart, they thought we were the same.
To kill and to steal..they took our land
All those lives taken with guns in their hands.

They took our land, our homes and our lives
our young braves, our babies and our wives.
Until all we had left was our pride
to the reservation we marched side by side.

Now, my son, we have a promise at hand
in the bible we read of a New Land.
That the meek shall inherit and forever stand
In the bible it's called Beulah Land!

The greedy and sinful cannot go there
for the children of God it is prepared.
If I could, I'd show you by paper and pen
how wonderful it is to be free again.

But Father has promised to give life to me
my family, my loved ones; and I do believe
So lose yourself in Him and through Him you'll see
all the love I have: I give to thee.

My children are my heritage from the Lord
and nothing can sever this life giving cord.
Now you have Spirit to show you the way
I'll rest in peace until that day.

When in His image you come to live
for in Him is eternal life that He gives
In Him you are free, bound by no man
Like an eagle you can fly! Oh! Yes! you can!

My Son when you are free, run like the wind!
For in it's gentle touch, my love I'll send.

Mother

In Silence...I AM

Silent R

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