Thursday, June 25

From a book I'd like to read.

You have noticed
that everything an Indian does
always works in circles, and everything tries to be round.

In the old days,
when we were a strong and happy people,
and so long
as the hoop
was unbroken,
the people flourished.

The flowering tree
was the living center of the hoop,
and the circle of the four quarters nourished it.
The east gave peace and light,
the south gave warmth,
the west gave rain, and the north
with its cold and mighty wind
gave strength and endurance.

Everything the Power of the World does is done
in a circle.
The sky is round,
and I have heard that the earth is round
like a ball, and so are all the stars.
The wind, in its greatest power, whirls.
Birds make their nests in circles,
for theirs is the same religion as ours.
The sun comes forth and goes down again in a circle.
The moon does the same, and both are round.
Even the seasons form a great circle
in their changing, and always come back again to where the were.
and so it is in everything where power moves.

Our teepees were round
like the nests of birds,
and these were always set
in a circle, the nation's hoop,
a nest of many nests,
where the Great Spirit
meant for us to hatch our children.

I added some line breaks, but apparently these words are from a book by a man named Black Elk.

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