The eagle calls to me, flying above my head. I sit on a big rock, meditating. I am one with my surroundings. I see the ghosts of my ancestors before me. I need their guidance. My people see pain and sorrow. What can I do? What should I do? My ancestors, alone, have the answer. More pain is to come. I cannot stop it, but I must never give up hope. They disappear instantly and I slowly open my eyes. I swiftly climb onto my horse, anger in my eyes and heart. I raise my face to the skya nd I hear the cry of the eagle before I ride away in a flash, to avenge my people's suffering.
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Author notes
Another poem from allpoetry.com.
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