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FOX RIVER LOVE SONG
Sky, rain, wind, the moon's glory when full,
Awash in light, low to the horizon ...
Eyes, lips, ears and hair,
Glorious limbs, the well-defined hand,
Feet with pretty toes ...
All God's children are beautiful,
His works abound with care and great love.
But she, she was blessed with beauty, exceedingly so,
The sun himself, though he encountered her often,
He would be caught unawares.
She surprised the sun himself,
Whenever she had come into his presence.
She surpassed all items of creation
Not only in feature and proportion,
But in wit and spirit, too.
And were I ever to experience a thousand women,
Have them in my life, she would remain favorite.
The White man brought us, the Chippewa,
The Two Books, their sacred wisdom and stories,
Yet braves eschewed them.
The very moment the medicine man touched them,
He claimed those volumes contained a pox.
He cast them to the ground.
Though now their holy word was written
In idiom common to our own people,
The propagation of any other faith proved impossible.
We knew no other god to match her power.
We knew hers was the face
Which could launch a thousand war canoe at once.
To honor her the topless sentry towers would tumble.
The vision of her face would flatten the high fences
It would vanquish the alien command,
Whose thick, wood fort on the bank of the River
Was sacrilege to all that was natural and good.
And when she step from her tent,
The sun would acquiesce, do her wish,
And burn the invader's barracks.
Fire would justify his great love and devotion.
Monday, February 6, 2012
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