A Tiny Seedling, Warning may be bit graphic.

[Ancestralbone]

A tiny seedling is planted within our being from the time we are conceived inside our mother’s womb. The seedling sprouts spreading into many tiny pieces throughout our being. One becomes love, hate, or emptiness, along with other emotions. Growing, we nourish our bodies with food, water, and knowledge, feeding those seeds within our souls. If we were to nourish those seeds with the wrong kind of nourishment the consequences can be fatal to any fellow human being. My people are young, Great Spirit and yet we are more naive then we should be. I am one being among my people called the human race. My face is not easily blended within others, as a white man would say. We are impure according to their way of thinking. But Great Spirit if you had created a superior race we would all appear the same. We know Great Spirit, you never intended a superior being, ever since the first footprint was placed in the sands of our mother earth, in the beginning of time.

I am called Moonwalker, for I walk the night until the sun awakens the world, becoming anew once more. It is my fate to roam mother earth for all eternity singing my song that is seldom heard, falling upon deaf ears. I am bound by chains and shackles, to walk this plane singing of my unforgivable crimes against humanity. My crime, is one of many, which has been committed throughout all time, by each one of us at one time or another. Only when everyone hears my song within their souls am I to be set free. Until then I continue to sing my song.

In the beginning we were young and innocent, as we began our journey called life, we were not aware of our nakedness or differences of our skins. As time passed, we began looking at ourselves in a different light. As the red waters ran over my hands I had no regrets about spilling their blood. They were white, after all, non humans, for whites took lives as easily as I. My seedling was nourished with hatred for the white man and the white man gave me that nourishment. I thought I was killing for the monstrosities committed against my people but in truth it was for my own satisfaction. That was my true crime, killing for the pure pleasure of spilling white man’s blood.

I came out of my mother’s womb, taking life into my lungs, nineteen seasons before my death. My mother told me I came into this world with a war cry escaping my lips. I grew under the loving nourishment of my mother and father, but as many moons passed something dark was growing within me. It began when a young white boy, orphaned from a raid by our people in retaliation for the lives taken by the hands of another white family. My mother took in the boy as her own, she believed we were all created by the same Great Spirit and should not let violence take anyone away from those whom they loved. I argued that why should we show a white man the same respect as a brother. She saw the anger within my soul and replied because we are one tribe in the end, my son. I shouted back, I do not want this white boy as my brother, he is weak and unworthy to fight by father’s or my side. I stormed out as my father came in, not allowing her to speak. Many moons passed as my father took the white boy deep into the forests and taught him our ways. I asked my father how he could teach him our scared ways, he replied, the same way he teaches me his ways. Raising his huge frame, my father said sternly, he is your brother, and tonight he will take his apache name with pride. As I watched the back of my father slowly go out of view, my darkness grew.

Sixteen seasons passed when the white man’s plague, smallpox paid a visit on our village. Within two moons my father joined the Great Spirit as my mother barely hung onto this plane, and the white boy avoided his people’s plague. For three more moons my mother painfully laid upon her mat before joining my father along with the Great Spirit. As her last breathe left her body I kissed her cheek and wished her well on the other plane. White boy tried to comfort my sorrow, he’d received my hatred instead. I shouted, you brought this plague to our village, murdering half my tribe. I pulled my knife from its sheath, holding it closely to his throat, I slowly inched the blade along, drawing blood. His empty sky blue eyes stared into mine, not making any movement to stop me, he just stood there straight and proud. Suddenly I stopped, he had true courage of a warrior after all, ‘you will live this day only because my mother loved you but I will not call you brother for as long as I walk this plane. He nodded yes as he turned his back toward me and unhurriedly strolled out of the village. Placing her on the scared burial ground, I asked the Great Spirit to keep them close to his heart.

For three seasons now the white man has come to our village with false words written on a piece of worthless paper. White men wearing blue coats came too, taking our women and tossing them aside when their bellies began to swell. One day as I watched over a young girl of fifteen seasons give birth to a half breed by the stream. I walked over picking up the thing, when I felt a burning in my guts. Dropping it into her soft delicate hands, the words, no more spilled blood, brother, echoed from behind. As I fell, I saw him, white boy was now a white man holding her and the child. A smile formed upon my lips as darkness covered my eyes. When I awoke, I looked down into the bloody waters, seeing one of my people laying face downwards in the water, I rushed to his side. When upon turning him over I was shocked to see my own eyes staring blankly up at me. I fell to my knees, not knowing what was going on. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a stranger in a white buck skinned sleeveless robe with a staff, approaching me. His staff was made of pure silver with black lettered words written down to the bottom, on top was a silver crescent moon. I could barely make out the prayer drawn on his robe, as he came closer he outstretched his staff toward me. The Great Spirit will not allow you to dwell among our ancestors, you are to take this staff and robe, to journey upon mother earth underneath the star lit sky. His words hit hard upon my soul as he handed me the staff along with the robe, as he vanished. The word’s why can I not walk among my father and mother, would not escape my lips.

As the moon showed her beautiful face, I was driven to walk endlessly throughout the night. By morning sleep weighed like a boulder lying on my back, I could not fight off the sleep. Why Great Spirit has thou forsaken me?, I screamed one full moon night. Dead silence slapped me hard in the face, I had done nothing to deserve this torment I cried. A voice whispered ‘you do not know brother,’ turning sharply around I saw an elderly white man dressed in my native clothing. Who are you?, I demanded. White boy, he softly replied. As I looked into his steel eyes, my heart heavily pounded. His snarl seemed out of place to me, it struck my heart with an icicle of fear. Good to see you remember me brother, I was just on my way to see mother and father, he said in a boasting manner. Good, I’ll leave you now, I stated. You do not wish an answer to your question?, he said gloating. What makes you think you have the answers I seek?, I asked as I continued to walk. You wish to know why you cannot be with mother and father, he plainly stated. I turned to stare at his backside, shouting wait, he stopped. Well, what a surprised, he smirked. Come here, I ordered. No, you have not said the magic words and besides why should I, his voice was angered. I can’t turn around once I have gone forward, I replied. ‘Too bad then, you will never know,’ his steps even sounded angry upon my ears. Go then, I will continue to wonder. No, I heard him shout from the top of his lungs. I stopped waiting only a few seconds, before his face was in front of mine. I am not like you brother and will not sink to your level. You wonder here because of the blackness within your heart, tears were coming down his cheeks. What are you talking about? Coldness lies within your heart, lying beside the coldness is the hatred, that colors your soul black. That is my answer, I replied laughing. Yes, brother it is you answer, he calmly said. How do you know this?, I asked. Mother came to me before I crossed over and told me to seek you out before joining her and tell you. I froze in place not knowing what to believe. I have done so and now wish to join my wife, but before I do, there is one last thing I wish to say. What, I growled. Mother understood why I killed you, you were about to murder my son.

As I watched him join with the Great Spirit, I felt a slight sorrow for I could not join them. My anger grew even more, now that he was aloud to be with my mother, my father and I was not. I wished I had broken that things neck before he took my life. ‘I knew that half breed was yours white boy, why do you think I wanted to kill it,’ I shouted up at the starlit sky. As I continued my wanderings I came across an unfamiliar face, his light-colored skin was different from my own, his features seemed slightly familiar in an odd way. Hello, Moonwalker, kindness filled his tone. Hello, who are you?, I asked. My name is Skydancer, his kindness still emanated in his voice. Are you forbidden to join the Great Spirit as well?, I angrily asked. ‘No, am I here to help you decided your fate,’ his smiled warmed my heart. ‘Oh, my brother tried and failed,’ I could not believe my words. You seemed surprised, by your own words. I am surprised, because I have never called him brother. ‘So why did you call him that now?’, he asked. I do not know except his words have begun ringing in my ears since you arrived. There is a reason for that, his sheepish grin did not offend me. What keeps you wandering?,asked Skydancer. ‘I do not know, yes I do,’ still my words seem to have a life of their own. ‘It seems his words have planted themselves into your soul,’replied Skydancer ‘I wish they had not,’ yet deep within my heart I know he was right. I sat and was in awe, for when I began my journey I could not do so. You now know his words were true, my Uncle. The word Uncle sunk heavily into my spirit. Why would you help me? You were human once who let their hatred grow inside and I do not hold your past against you. How can you not hold what I have done against me?, I said angrily. My father stopped you from taking my life, I was newly born so how can I hold that against you. In other words let it go, my words failed me. I do not understand how you cannot hate me, I gasped. Because when my father told me what you had tried to do, I learned what hate can do. Your lesson in hatred taught me that the Great Spirit created all man not just the red man alone. I am grateful for that lesson, Uncle. Words could not escape my tongue but now the need to be with my parents and the Great Spirit was not so strong. I see you have made your choice Uncle, I will give them your love. Yes, I have decided to stay and sing my song about my ways to anyone who will hear. ‘Tell them when I turn over my staff to another, I will I join them,’ a smiled form upon my lips for the first time. Also tell brother I ask for his forgiveness. He does not need to Uncle, for he had done that long ago, a great light shone upon him and took him up to the Great Spirit.

I roam still today to find another with a small spark of goodness within his soul who will carry on my song. Every moon I talk to my family and I hear them talking back to me. I am not alone anymore but there is much to do still. For hatred may never be fully cleansed from humans hearts but the overflow must be cleaned up before it engulfs us all in its wake. Trying to create balance is not easy for one man but one man must begin and others will follow. The prayer upon my staff says it best, ‘Great Spirit hear thy prayer, may we no longer see the differences of our skins. May you teach us that we are from the same tribe from beginning and end of life upon this plane of existence. I pray you hear my song and join in with me for I love to hear many voices blend with my own. Until the next moon I will wait to hear your voice, my friend.

Copyright:Paige McMasters

[~MidnightAngel~]

tazzy tazzy Great piece AB, is there more to it or is that it, like a short story? Just curious...

[Ancestralbone]

It is a short story although it may need some editing because I was not quite as polished then when I wrote it. One question when I type the word fighting without the ing it shows fight.

[vanax]

i will have to come back and read it i don't have much time right now. :(

[Ancestralbone]

I understand Van raising a family takes up most of your time. ^_^

[vanax]

ok so i guess i will have to print it cause it is bugging my eyes trying to read it on here right now. :<_<

[EmeraldDragon]

a beautiful tale AncestralBone, one that brought a tear to my eye.

I fear Moonwalker still has many miles, and many years to go before his song is heard my the people.

Although, there is always hope.


namaste

[Ancestralbone]

Thank you EmarldDragon. ^_^