*the Dust Of Long Ago Poem by C R Clark

In the land of thermal waters, many moons ago
When streams in virgin forests, yet with crystal water flowed
Before the Europeans came from lands so far away
And vowed to conquer for their king, this new land they would claim

The “Redman” dwelt these mountains, the trails and piney woods
His father and his father’s father many times removed
Had lived and raised their families here within this pristine land
Using only that supplied by nature’s bountiful hand

His life came from the mountains, the woods, and crystal streams
He planted fields of corn and groves of fruit and nut trees
He felt close to all God’s creatures, a kinship he could see
With the turkey, deer, and bear, and majestic wapiti

He killed only what he needed for his people to survive
And, thus, the game was always here in plentiful supply
He would gather with his people in the longhouse round the fire
And sing of “age old” heroes like Aquixo and Casqua

There were many here in those days, as many as the stars
And they lived in tune with nature so that all could well endure
There were Tunica and Caddo, Quapaw and Osage
There were Natchez and many others before the Europeans came

The Spaniards with DeSoto brought iron weapons, tools, and greed
But they did not bring understanding for the native people’s creed
They seized the people’s food stores and many they enslaved
They destroyed fields and villages as they passed along their way

The people died by thousands from drought and strange disease
That was brought by the invaders and our people had never seen
Yes, I told my son, these were our people, once mighty, strong, and proud
But now they are just a memory passed on by word of mouth

Tell me father, my son asked, will we be great again, at last? ”
Will we sing in the longhouses of mighty leaders of the past?
Will we hunt the woods and mountains and fish the crystal streams
And once more live as brothers with the bear and wapiti? ”

These things, I told my son, are things I’ve never seen
My father told them to me as his father told to him
They live now in our legends that we pass on as we go
But, my son, these things have settled with the dust of long ago