I heard a Buffalo poet say words
are the blood of a nation's soul
spilled in every line
if its stories are to be told.
He said a sentence gives a poem
shape, meter heart, and rhythm
remembrance, but words
fill the blank page of our beginnings.
Words guide us through life.
Showing the then-and-now
of ourselves and our at-one-ment
with nature and God. Words help
fulfill the promise offered
by the spirits. Poets use words
to interpret the tatoos of Mother
Earth: telling life under
the sands, the songs rocks sing,
what mountains say, the magic
inside mists, why rain is sacred
and Sun and Moon revered.
In their bones, poets know
they are responsible for the world's
welfare. Words are the medicine.
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