July Fourth, Independence Day, pray for rain,
may the maize grow stronger, face the wind,
our braves be justly decent, lithe and slim,
we'll have a mighty powwow circle dance please enter in...
The bison race along the range,
all tribe members live to ripe old age.
Our wisdom speaks of many vanished sages,
gone are the white brothers' wars and rages!
The salmon fill our bluest rivers,
mountains capped with forests, stones and snow
sacredly held in silent wondrous awe...
In the present not in former lore.
The earth is sweet and good for us to share...
Guns will rust, erode to dust,
pebbles on the shore complete
the universe, the land and sky...
Life is being born, living a moment,
then in ghostly image passing by.
4th July 2003
Author: Roy Schoenberg - Bay Shore, New York.