My Hope

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).

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