My Hope
A land so great
Land so beautiful
They looked upon
With great respect
No thought of money
None of destruction
When the stranger arrived
They offer a place to sleep
The outsider gazes at the land
He wants and desires for himself
Greed in his heart and spirit
Leads to pain and sorrow
Descendant of both worlds
Choosing the former
Of people long forgotten
Their past filled with chaos
The hope inside my heart
They won’t be forgotten
And someday quickly
They may be offered compassion
“When the Trail of Tears started in 1838, the mothers of the Cherokee were grieving and crying so much, they were unable to help their children survive the journey. The elders prayed for a sign that would lift the mother’s spirits to give them strength. The next day a beautiful rose began to grow where each of the mother’s tears fell. The rose is white for their tears; a gold center represents the gold taken from Cherokee lands, and seven leaves on each stem for the seven Cherokee clans. The wild Cherokee Rose grows along the route of the Trail of Tears into eastern Oklahoma today.”
Video that inspired the poem and in memory of my Cherokee ancestors as well as the Native American Indians (Indigenous Peoples of the United States).
Focal Breeze 