An original legend
By: Pamela Waterbird Davison 2006
The Crying Song
Long, long ago, when the people were new to the land and barely a voice could be heard by Father Sky, one warrior set out to search for a way to make his prayers known.
His heart was red and pure where he laid upon the soft, soft grass, crying and crying. He cried for the beauty surrounding him in all the trees, animals, and sky; so unbelievable and beyond anything he could imagine. He cried for the beauty of his people, young and old, bold and brave, humble and grateful. He cried so Great Mystery would know the true intent of his walk.
Many times did Grandmother Moon pass over his face, and even when his voice began to crack, blood dripping from his chin, he continued to cry. Such was the depth of his love for all Creator had given him in this life. Still, he could not hear his words rise above the mountains.
The visions came to him, one by one, where he saw the land and the people as he hovered above them. From such great heights, the absolute warrior witnessed everything his people longed to say, and he moved higher. His body was dying, not from hunger, but from thirst, so long had it been since water touched his lips. Yet, he did not worry for he was changing.
He became removed from his human form, taking on the shape of a bird much more powerful than any other. His breast pounded with the sounding of the people’s drum, a heartbeat in time with Mother Earth. He grew claws strong enough to carry the people’s words to Great Mystery, and he flew higher and higher.
When he reached Creator he spoke of the things lingering in the hearts of red people everywhere, and his words were heard, for from that moment on he was appointed carrier of prayers, hopes, and dreams.
Today we look up, searching for Eagle, our ultimate warrior, carrying our hearts to the One who would listen, and we can still hear him crying, his voice like a sweet, sweet song.
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