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Visions
3 November, 2003
Author: Mark Spencer

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One day while I was hiking through
The Pacific north west,
In an unfamiliar region,
On a random quest.

I came upon a hallowed site,
Not knowing what I’d found,
I’d stumbled on an Indian
Sacred burial ground.

Many artifacts were scattered
Around that holy site.
I set up camp, then looked around,
While I still had some light.

I explored until the sun set,
And then I went to bed.
Unaware that my presence there
Had awakened the dead.

I do not know how long I’d slept
Before startled awake.
And when the voices called to me
I could not see who spake.

Then I was confronted by a
shocking revelation.
Whoever desecrates this tomb,
Risks his own damnation.

The spirits of the honored dead
Were standing about me.
Brave warriors who met their fate
In eighteen sixty three.

A man of regal bearing spake,
And asked why I was there.
He wondered why a man alone
Would hike the river Bear.

He told me this was holy ground,
Their final resting place,
Of a proud and noble people:
The Snake Indian race.

The blood of fallen warriors,
Was on the white man’s hand.
For it was they who led the charge,
To drive them from this land.

These mountains had provided for
Many generations.
And they refused to be confined
To the reservations.

And as he told his tale to me,
I saw it in my mind.
In visions of another time,
So vividly defined.

This tranquil land was scarred that day,
Left broken and tattered.
To satisfy another’s goals,
Peaceful lives were shattered.

They fought until the last brave fell;
Not one was left alive.
Three hundred proud men understood
That they would not survive.

And so their story went untold
Until that fateful night.
When visions from the spirit world
Completely filled my sight.

And even to this very day,
I still see their faces.
As I remember a journey,
To far away places.

I will chronicle their struggles,
And their quest for glory.
For in visions I could see
The end of their story.

If you live in America,
Perhaps you’ll understand,
The price these people had to pay,
In making this your land.

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Comments on this poem/writing:

Terrie* (65.148.213.130) -- Wednesday, November 5 2003, 10:10 pm

spiritual search.....

your spiritual search was very pleasing to read....Beautifully written....thank you for being their voice and opening up many eyes, hearts and ears...the spirits just want respect of their Holy Burial Ground....
Terrie* (65.148.213.130) -- Wednesday, November 5 2003, 10:13 pm

P.S.....

I guess SPIRITUAL ENCOUNTER is far more appropriate.....in reguards to your QUEST VISION...either way....I loved it....
Megan (24.144.59.23) -- Tuesday, November 7 2006, 07:08 am

Wow! What a story!

You never cease to amaze me.
Russ (24.144.57.168) -- Thursday, November 29 2007, 03:17 am

Very cool.

This poem was awesome Mark. I enjoyed it very much.
Bipedalguy (75.67.182.104) -- Thursday, November 29 2007, 07:28 pm

Delightful

This was a particularly touching story which captured me. I like stories about the spiritual aspects of the original people of North America.
The quality of the writing and beauty of the poetry are what I have become accustomed to with this writer.
Totally awesome, bitchin, a.o.k. kewel, right on, far out and groovy. Keep 'em coming.
 
Name:                                           Remember Me

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