First Peoples' Story Book ~ Archive

An archived collection of the first submissions to the First Peoples' Story Book.

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Our Members Writings:



When I go to the valley
I go there alone.
When I go to the valley
My soul seeks its home.
When I go to the valley
I seek some peace.
And its here in the valley
My soul feels at ease.

When I go to the ocean
I go there alone.
When I go to the ocean
My soul seeks its home.
When I go to the ocean
I seek escape from sin.
And here at the ocean
My soul's forgiven.

When I go to the forest
I go there alone.
When I go to the forest
My soul seeks its own.
When I go to the forest
I seek the right choice.
And here in the forest
My soul hears God's voice.

When I go to the mountain
I go there alone.
When I go to the mountain
My soul seeks its home.
When I go to the mountain
I seek greater things.
And its here on the mountain
My soul finds its wings.



Cherokee Tears

Not how long you
have cried, but how deep?
Have tears robbed your pretty
face of potential smile, laughter,
your exhausted body
starved from peaceful sleep?

So much you've been through ~
a childhood wrought with
unbearable pain.
Now a lifetime of memories
that will never let you forget;
severe enough to drive you insane.

Your proud heritage you carry
with pride on shattered shoulders,
worn.
Cherokee tears refusing to
dry from the flood of sunken
despair, forlorn.

You've said farewell to
your mother, but never
goodbye. It's her lingering
Great Spirit that guides you
in an unsure, azure sky.

And still you walk, head
held high, proud Cherokee
woman with a noble sigh,
always there for your
WDC sisters and brothers,
enough tears to wipe
and shed for others.

You hear another's waking cry,
and in the midst of empathy,
you walk, still, proud
Cherokee woman
with her head held high.

~
For Cissy WhiteWolf, 8/08

By: SoNNetWolF

The wind blows over the water.
This means that the fish will be plentiful.
The wind tickles a wolf's fur.
He licks his coat to keep it beautiful.

I am a Princess of Cherokee blood.
The spirits rule the land.
They protect the rivers and lakes from floods.
They also protect us with an invisible hand.

The wolf howls at the moon.
He tells the future.
The sick Cherokee baby will be well soon.
Sometimes, our people have a lot to endure.

I picked a red rose today.
A peaceful feeling comes over me.
To the spirits, we pray.
To the great white buffalo I see.

The white buffalo is a spirit-
who watches over the Cherokee.
My people have true grit.
I brew a cup of special tea.

I read the tea leaves and a spirit visits me.
I walk with a wolf by the lake.
The wolf nudges my knee.
I smile as, from my vision, I awake.

I love my people and I love this land.
Wolves, bears and eagles guide us through life.
I hold out my hand-
and the Cherokee man I love asks me to be his wife.

I hope the Cherokee people will always be here.
Along with the animals and beautiful land-
and all that we hold dear.
I leave my Cherokee foot prints in the sand.


By: Princess Megan Rose

WARRIOR SPILL


Somewhere across a wolf-less sky
broken chants nudge ancient silence
cries left to whispered weeps.

My Soul beats to dismantled drums ~
unfurling innate sorrow
from restless sleep.

Golden hue
torn wings of Eagles
rivers rising in bloody cause . . .

Clouded hopes of warriors brave
pierced from arrows of
white man's
laws.

Moon cast slivers
ruptured dust
a painted horse perks up his ears.

Diminished tribes of weakened poise
blend blue-eyed corn
in a trail of tears.

A wind blows sour
bitter more the taste
hollowed emptiness in
gathered waste.

Powwows tumble down
ages past . . .

I taste yearning thunder ~ ~
in a Seminole blast.

Struggles submerged
I touch their tomb
though I lay bleeding
in a Caucasian womb.

I felt their power
and wrought-iron will
become my own
agony never to distill ~ ~

sawed-off echoes
down canyon-grief,

I ache again and again,

because I hear it ~ ~

still.


By:SoNNetWolF

         I have decided to write a poem in my native tongue of Cherokee... But I realized that I must also write it in English for those of you whom do not speak Cherokee language. It took me several days to translate the English version into Cherokee language exactly word for word. For those of you whom are and have been curious about the Indian language... this is just one type of Indian language. The Cherokee language only. I hope you enjoy trying to read it and have fun with it. I have written the poem in English first, then the poem that follows this will be the same one in Cherokee language broken down syllable-by-syllable so that it will be easy for you to follow and read. I honestly hope that you enjoy this, and have fun with it...happy reading !

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( the English version...)


Broken Spirit Cherokee... Trail of Tears

Last September to early May,
I know many come to live,
friend and family alike today,
Cherokee come here and give.

Many then say to the Great Spirit,
Long ago the journey I hear,
how Cherokee Nation come to it,
walked the Trail of Tears.

Some do not make it to new land,
family all forgotten I do agree,
many lives lost to man,
wounded too, you care to see?

Indians accept aid and comfort,
lost and forgotten, I do weep,
come! take aid, tonight abundant,
accept, say Thank You, please.

" We are all related "

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( the cherokee version, enjoy )


U-yo-tsv-hi a-do-nv-do tsa-la-gi ... Nv-na-da-u-la-Tsv-yi

O-ni Tsu-ga-na-wv hi l-lv-yi A-na-s-gv-ti ,
tsi-ga-ta-hi u-tsu-ti e-he-na hi e-na,
u-gi-ne-li a-le tsi-da-na-lv-hi u-tlo-yi su-na-la-yi,
Tsa-la-gi e-he-na ha-ya-ni a-le a-da-ne-di.

U-tsu-ti na-hi-yu-i hi-ne-gi hi A-da-nv-do,
go-hi-gi hi-a v-i-sv-i a-ya ga-dv-gi-a,
gu-do-i Tsa-la-gi-yi A-ye-li e-he-na hi s,
a-i-sv-s hi-a Nv-na-da-u-la- Tsv-yi.

I-ga-du tla o-tlv-na s hi a-tse-hi ga-do-hi,
tsi-da-na-lv-hi o-wa-sa tsa-wo-ne-su-ga a-ya nah-dv-ga i-su-a-ye-(lv)-di,
u-tsu-ti e-na u-le-nah-i-da hi a-s-ga-ya,
a-sa-nu-nu hi-hi ne-hi, a-ga-se-s-do-di hi he-go-wa-ta?

A-ni-yv-wi-ya-hi di-da-ni-lv a-da-s-de(lv)-di a-le nu-tso-se-dv-na,
u-le-nah-i-da a-le tsa-wo-ne-su-ga, a-ya nah-dv-ga de-tlo-ya-s-ti,
e-he-na! a-gi-s-di a-da-s-de-(lv)-di, ta-li-ne-i-ga gv-wa-lo-sv-s-di,
di-da-ni-lv, ga-di-a wa-do, u-le-ha-le-s-ti.


" Mi-ta-ku-ye O-yr-sin "


By:Cissyccr
6/15/08

From then until now, our lives have intermingled...
and we have become as one people, one nation,
I Love All.

Sisters born in the Cherokee Tribe
Best friends as they endured-
Hardships but honored the customs
and the members of the Cherokee Tribe.

White Wolf and Moonlight Dove,
Happy to be Cherokee sisters.
The only children of:
Eagle Spirit and Willow Wind.

They fish, weave baskets,
Cook, make beautiful-
jewelry from beads-
as they wear their jewelry with pride.

They are faithful to the spirits.
Sometimes, you can see a
white wolf and gray wolves-
walking and watching over them.

White Wolf and Moonlight Dove-
wait patiently for their father-
to chose their husbands-
who will be loyal and faithful to the tribe.

The sisters have always been close.
Healing injured animals.
Healing their own people as well.
The spirits smile and shine on them.

Moonlight Dove saved her sister from-
drowning in the lake when the canoe-
capsized and the wild current pulled her under.
White Wolf and Moonlight Dove have a special bond.

The day has come for the sisters to be married.
Their father chose the husbands well.
The sisters have fallen in love
and are happy to be married.

The Cherokee sisters have children now.
They remain close and their children-
are also friends and family.
They have been blessed by the spirits.

The Cherokee Nation lives on.
The wolves, eagles and spirits-
will always watch over the Cherokees.
America, still a land to be proud of.

The Cherokee sisters could have been-
Cissy and Megan in a past life.
If we would have lived in the west in the 1700's.
I love you, Cissy my Cherokee sister!

By: Princess Megan Rose/ MoonLight Dove

WISE WOMAN

I stir my pot
Bubbling still
I'm not a witch
I only heal

I lay my stones
Upon the land
Calling great spirit
To guide my hand

I weave my web
To catch the dreams
Creating order
From chaos unseen

I walk with mothers
About to birth
Guiding their way
On mother earth

I read the omens
That is sent to me
I am a Wise Woman
That's all I can be.

By: Amadahy Gypsy

REMEMBERING LIVES PAST

The blessings come to me in dreams;
If only I could make them last.
I roam the land, drink from the streams.
I sleep, remembering lives past

Not far away, but long ago
I walked this earth, my soul in tune.
With spirits; those whose blessings flow,
Mother Earth, the Sun, and the Moon.

Sometimes dreams come to me so clear
Of our hunting to stay alive.
As the buffalo herds drew near
The woods we hunted to survive.

Animal totems gave me peace;
They warned of danger to the clan.
Instead of letting blessings cease,
We rued the totems' guiding hand.

In dreams and visions they would show
The way to lead my family.
Thru summer's heat and winter's snow
All life was in tune, Blessed Be.

Now I walk o'er this earth so vast
Ever searching for peace of mind.
While I'm remembering lives past
There in my dreams, my peace I find.

By: Jeanne

This story is a little too long to put directly onto this page. It is from a new member and I read it. I can tell you from my opinion that it is an awesome story! This is a must read. You will not be sorry that you did.

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