found poem

native american lit!

"he fits into his wings of the air
in his lament he kneels and prays to the great spirit
"I lived happily"
calling upon his spirit guardian,
he looks upon the faces of the coyotes.
needy, he thanked them.
the Indian is like that:

wings of air
change of worlds
region of forests
taught of stars
mother of people
help of Great Spirit.

She nourishes us."