Colin F. Jones


Part 1: The Warrior

~ 1 ~

WarriorsSilent; solitary; non self-seeking,
Free of feeble imperfect speech,
The soul ascends in wordless adoration
To where no sound can reach.
Nearer to the Great Spirit in solitude,
No priest between maker and man,
None can meddle with his worship,
No individual thought can ban.
No preaching, no persecution,
No proselyting; no scorn;
Just the inner connection of silence,
Like a solitary sun in a radiant dawn.
With divine consciousness all his own,
This Warrior with nature has grown

~ 2 ~

He rides the currents of changing winds;
Along majestic rivers he floats his canoe.
In communion with the mysterious silent unseen
His bambeday[1] brings the spirits to view.
Lightning; thunder water and fire!
The frost, the snow, and the rain
Have awesome powers for the spirit pervades
All nature with an encompassing flame.
Filial piety runs hot through his veins
And he shares his skill and his wares,
Material possessions are not of his gains.
He thinks clearly and therefore he cares.
Virtue and happiness are borne, not in chains
But in the dignity and respect he sustains.

~ 3 ~

On sandstone cliff edge, like a graceful Eagle
Perched in solitude in the Zephyr’s face,
Above the valley below and meandering river,
Like a spirit in cloud in the skies blue grace.
His eyes look far into the great mystery of life;
Gentle passion and peace filling his heart,
The hunter cherishing the beast of his labour,
United with nature from which he cannot depart.
The wind did not stir him, or the lure of a woman.
Self indulgence and indolence, his mind cast away;
Personal hardship and hunger failed to deter him
As in silence to the Great Spirit he did motionless pray.
For he was a Warrior; a shadow; a sculpture;
A man of honour and courage, and truth was his way.

~ 4 ~

Let him be like the Eagles and the painters
For they are all worthy of imitation.
As the woman copies spiders and ants,
Then shall he don the coat of his relation.
For the wolf the wildcat and the bear
Shall be the symbolic skins of his pride
And the bold nobleness of his stare
Will reflect the wisdom that dwells inside.
The spirits of silence will cushion his feet
And the air spectres soften his tread;
The great Eagle will give power to his eye.
Light and shadow camouflage his body and head.
Like a whisper he will move among trees,
A murmur; a spectre of breeze

~ 5 ~

The cry of the wolf has faded;
The spirit of night has passed
Across the Great Plains so jaded.
Long shadows, cruel time has cast.
The string of the bow has slackened,
Smoke from the campfires is low;
The hearths of the fathers still blackened
By the flameless fires of the foe.
Yet the Warrior still seeks to be tested;
He still walks with dignity and pride
Though his culture is truly infested
By persecution from the other side.
Yet he gallantly fights for the nation
That his ancestors were cruelly denied.

~ 6 ~

Usen, the First Cause, directs his way:
The life giver who gave the world its breath,
The all-powerful one he’ll not betray,
Who gave him life to serve till death.
Mother Earth, the sky child gives him food;
All living things her kin and seeds,
His to honour where he must intrude
And humbly regrets where he succeeds.
For the hunter kills not for delight
Thus seeks forgiveness for his need,
For he knows of wrong and knows of right
And never shares his soul with greed.
For trees and beasts all have a soul
And he is a part of the wondrous whole.

~ 7 ~

Sky Father is the very air he breathes;
The sustainer of life; water and fire;
He is everything the man warrior receives,
Providing strength and natural desire.
His unspoken orison with the sun in his face
Is more sacred than food in his camp
As he unites with great reverence knowing his place
That Usen is his guiding lamp.
For the warrior of war must experience peace,
The tranquillity of solitude and love:
For the great Eagle cannot his great wings release
If he has not first flown with the Dove;
For none are more gentle than those who can harm
Those whom they humbly love.

~ 8 ~

Low-smoke, the fire spirit has gathered
The flames of the fire to his breast.
The embers are struggling together
To deny his final request.
The Sky father has gathered around him
The sweet air that once filled his youth,
But the dark clouds of death do bind him
In their shrouds with cloaking reproof.
There is a bright star that died at his birth
Yet, still in the sky, is its glow
For its light has not yet reached the Earth
As his struggles for life do show.
But the time of its travel is closing
On the darkening valley below.

~ 9 ~

“Now I go as the white wolf wakes
While the trail is safe and sound;
Beyond the slowly freezing lakes
To a place I long have found.
My chair is the wind blown grass:
Its backrest, an old pine tree.
It is time for my spirit to pass
Into the mystery that none can see.
Before I go, my lingering thoughts
Go where my eyes cannot behold;
Back to the home resorts
Into the family fold…
Into those gentle hearts
Who know that I’ve grown old….”

Part 2: Warrior Woman

~ 10 ~

Warrior WomanShe has watched the ermine, the spiders and the ants
And has slept beneath the skin of the buffalo calf.
She has studied the bee and its way with the plants
And she has torn her doeskin shawls in half.
She has watched the Eagle ride the wind tides
And has gathered wisdom from the cyan sky,
Great knowledge from her spirit guides,
And knows not a word for the foul word “lie”.
She is Shaman, born of the great mysterious one
Who gathers the wisdom of ancestors inside her soul.
She is the cascade that makes cool rivers run;
She is the deer, the beaver and the foal.
She is the brave mother of the Gemini of her self,
Passing on the wisdom of her greater wealth.

~ 11 ~

The past preserves great wisdom and lore
Learnt from the birds, the beasts and the sky,
From the valiant Warriors who relished in war,
From the lost souls, spirits of those who died.
Out of the sipapu[2] we all came into life
And through it we go when we leave.
The magic twins sang us to the fourth world
That through our ancestors true events we perceive.
Only the pure of heart will find the true trails
That lead to the spiritual lands;
Those of corruption and untruth will fail
For they will disgrace the spirits of their clans
And the pahos[3] they make will bring rue,
For false prayers are like cold stones in the dew.

~ 12 ~

The spiritual harmony of Mother Earth moves me
In a way that no written word can.
The truth of its reality sooths me
And I share it with no other one.
Creation is laid out before me;
The living diversities of its structures are real.
All the elements are part of my body
And part of the air that I feel.
All things are gifted with uniqueness,
Therefore I can never compare.
Though some see straight lines as obliqueness,
I see the trails of snakes everywhere.
For the sky is my guide, and my tutor
Is Mother Earth for whom I must care.

~ 13 ~

The white eye of greed rapes my mother;
With disrespect he breaks the tree.
He frowns upon my sister and brother
And despises and ridicules me.
I am shaman, and my star in the sky,
Unlike theirs, will never go out.
For the light of my spirit can’t die
For it is pure and deeply devout.
I am a healer and chaste in my ways,
Kachina[4] a messenger of the wise,
And though short may be my days
I’ll wipe tears from many sad eyes;
Each causing my earth soul to fade,
That with such a burden it finally dies.
For from the frailty of love it is made.