“Storm Is Coming”

Storm clouds gathered, as the day turned dark
"Red Feather” was weary, and feeling grim
His mind was on. . . Future attacks
Praying odds of their winning, weren't too slim

The safety for his Tribe people, Wasisante
Was laying heavy, on Red feather's heart
In charge as the Chief, of this Nation
His mind dwelled on the fight, that would start

He expected the French, would attack soon
A great battle, would surely ensue
His fear was discussed with his son "Red Moon"
And together, they planned what to do . . .

It was on the shore of . . . Lake Mille Lacs
Where his people built, their Bark home
Yet, many had departed with Tipi's and sacks
Going down the Mississippi, made to roam

Red Feather spoke, to Great White Father
In Sihasapa, his true native tongue
He asked for His wisdom and guidance
And protection for the old and the young

"Wakanisha" a name, for their native children
Who were considered sacred, and a gift
Were each one, held high in his heart
And by name, to Great Spirit, he would lift

Oh, many were the thoughts of Red Feather
As he rode, proud and high along the trail
With dark clouds, predicting bad weather
He knew "Great White Spirit" would not fail

This night, they would begin the "Sundance"
A religious ceremony, of the spiritual Sioux
A twelve day ritual, they'd dance and prance
Serving Great Spirit, each day through . . .

Even though, storm clouds were gathering
Red Feather, as always . . .Was quite brave
Knowing he'd stand strong, doing his best
Fighting for his people and land. . .To save

Copyright © 2009 Judith Johnson Kypta
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