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Rated: E · Poetry · Cultural · #2079619
native American
Winds blow across the land
Many years ago.
Great spirit saw coming of things.
While walking his beautiful garden
He picked the most beautiful of flowers.
For many hundred of years the seeds were lost.
I sat outside watching the sunrise -
As you know The morning was silent.
In the distance just above day break
I heard a soft whispering wind.
Its been growing louder through the years.
Whispers among the elders speak of the change
That is about to come.
You can hear it in the trees, rivers, and creeks.
It grows louder each day, our time has come.

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