My Feet Tread Upon Ancient Ground. Poem by Osceola Waters

My Feet Tread Upon Ancient Ground. 29/07/2008

My feet tread upon ancient ground,
Dust of decades passed puff up and around my feet,
I gaze up towards a home now abandoned,
In cliffs that hold untold secrets,
Ancient dust and feet of a lonely warrior in a lonely place,
A bronzed and dusty body does not tier,
Old beyond my years,
Yes I am old beyond my years.

My feet tread upon ancient ground, dust only leaves foot prints of the moment,
They are gathered up and swept away, in wind that whispers of secrets of a time now gone,
Traces of old water channels cross this dry inhospitable land,
Life though is abundant,
Wild and evolved within our mother,
Seasons come and go,
Flowers of beauty appear,
Then disappear,
Animals and birds multiply than die,
Reptiles hunt at night,
Use the sun during the day,
On bed rock they lay,
Old beyond my years,
Yes I am old beyond my years,

The hot sun bears down upon a body that does not feel pain,
Does not know hunger,
Never gets thirsty,
Never sleeps,
Wanders from horizon to horizon,
I cast no shadow,
And I can hear the voices of the past,
The drums beat for me
Images dance in star lite skies,
Falling stars mark the way from heavens door,
Yes I am old beyond my years,
Yes I am old beyond my years,

At night I see distant fires,
Chants are carried by the wind,
Wild horses gallop in ghostly images,
Through darkened plains of mystery,
The golden moon hides behind clouds of shame,
As buffalo bones begin to glow,
I hear the wolves howl but there no where to be seen,
I wander and wander through centuries upon centuries,
I wait with patient anticipation for a time of renewal,
For the arrival of Hvtke Yvnvsa, Tutanka,
The white buffalo,
Yes old beyond my years,
Yes I am old beyond my years,

Peace will fall upon our mother earth,
No wars will corrupt the land,
People will be of one nation,
The human race,
All will be of the rainbow,
Colours will merge and weld in camouflage,
No colour distinctive,
No colour prominent,
No people dominant,
No nation superior,
This is why I wander,
I wait for this time of renewal,
That’s why time and age does not wrinkle my face,
I am the searcher of the moment,
The right time,
When the earth will return to a time of sanity,
My Vision my Dream, Osceola Birdman Waters.