Prelude:

It is an ancestral journey!

A journey which has lasted years, generations and lifetimes. A journey which has in it's gradual course toward fulfillment, delivered babies into the arms of young mothers who watched those babies become children, boys and girls playing.

Children who would grow up to become parents themselves, then Grandparents, who in their last days would lay close to the Mother Earth and in their last prayers give thanks for having known the journey. Then there is silence for them. yet, the journey remains.

 

When had it begun?

There isn't a person alive today who can tell you exactly when the journey began. However, according to the Keepers, who hold the memories, the stories and the words close to their hearts, the journey has been as long as the people have been.

They tell us too, that it began somewhere close at the center of the mountains, somewhere by a spring. A spring that sent forth the sweet life water from the heart of the Mother Earth. At a place where lightning struck a tree and fire came forth to light the pipes, to heat the rocks, and to warm the sacred brown bodies of men, women and children. Somewhere back there in the mountains at a place that today only the Eagles can find.

 

When will it end?

Who can say for sure? There are those who say the time is at hand, and speak of it as though it will be tomorrow. They coax, they warn, and they plead with those they love to make ready. "Prepare", they say, "for we are almost home!"

And those who listen have dreams. Dreams of a new day, perhaps tomorrow, when the people may finally stop to rest, to unload their now ancestral burdens, and to celebrate like we would after a real good hunt!

Then there are those who say, "We shall never see it in our lives. ..nor will our children see it in theirs. Perhaps when our grandchildren are in their last days, they may see it. , .but not us!"

Nonetheless, hope is maintained, faith is replenished with each new sunrise, and we continue our journey on. We continue our journey on as years pass, and as we trek across generations and lifetimes we look ahead. The words of our keepers close to our hearts.

We look for the mountains they spoke of. We listen for the spring, and long to see the place where lightning struck a tree and fire came forth to light the pipes, to heat the rocks and to warm the sacred brown bodies of men, women and children. ..

Richard Two Elk
1977

 

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WinterCamp Chronicles Prelude Page
created by Richard Two Elk
TWO ELK ENTERPRISE - GENERATIONS - Native American Radio Web
Est.: MAY 2000
Updated: JANUARY 2012

R. Two Elk, May 2000

URL: www.twoelkenterprise.com