"Within the cages of life"
from Dreaming of a True World
by Ed Little Crow

A light with in glows
We see vision
As in our cloth beds
We dream
Of a time in history
When before us a quality of life
That once came to us
From nature
So at a time in life
Chained to a reality




Like as in prison
Life as we have know it
Passes us by
As we find ways to survive
The way of life which has endured remains forever
poem
Forgive me
For this is to much
I am a Indian soul
Trapped blocked by concrete forms
And chaotic carelessness
Listen and you can hear my ancestors
Voicing their discontent at the broken hoop
A tribe with out a golden dream
I am in a old state
With out a eagle
Only the foreshadowing of clouds against the sun
from the dissolution of a broken promise
A lonely cell
A dim bar
An unmarked grave
A lonely figure , uncertain, afraid
An object of alcohol jail, prisons and drugs a social misfit
An object of abuse and social scorn
Accepted only in handsome dress
And appearance
An object of judicial tongue lashing
Law and social abuse
I am a Indian soul trapped in a pale obscurity
I had an american dream
Until the memory of that dream
Turned into a nightmare
A savage
I was



In the rising sun
Baptized , civilized, Christianized
I have nowhere to go
If I had horse I would ride
To the thundering falls
To taste the brother hood floating free in this land
Of our seed
For there is no rainbow
In this country of displacement
The woman of my long waiting is with me now
On one autumn night the only woman I will ever love
Will lay in a peaceful sleep
Dreaming of a true world of right to come
As in a world of dissolution
We forgive
The people who believe
That each are trapped in a social net
Forgive the young
For tomorrow is just as much theirs as it is ours
And we want to do the right
Just passing through
People don’t want to believe
The badness and abuse
Or that all of america
Is being destroyed
Both north and south
Land ripped open left unhealed
Forests decimated
Or turned into artificial tree farms
Rivers, lakes, and oceans
Are being polluted
Asphalt concrete and plastic jungles
Of European culture
Are leaving behind decaying ruins filled with the rejected sectors
of human society
A thundering that no longer clashes
Because of an Indian soul longing to be free





connect with author for readings/lecture
jaimiesclan@q.com