Red Earth MysteryRed Earth MysteryMorning light reflecting face of shaman in pool

                  Red Earth Mystery

Morning light shimmers on gold and red oak leaves-

some bound to branches, others flit and flutter in their

sinuous fall to red sand loam soil. My gaze shifts toward

the winding trail down the crest of the ridge onward to a

refreshing spring. Eyes focus on a small gray arrowhead,

exposed by recent rains. I pick up the flint point, rubbing

it between thumb and forefinger. Had it flown at the head

of an arrow shot by a brave intent on feeding family or

had he let it fly at an enemy? That we'll never know. Old

folks say this hill once came alive as bronze skinned

warriors danced to the rhythm of songs sung by elders.

Something urged me on down the path toward a spring

flowing from red sandstone rocks. Each step drew me

closer to a sound. Almost a whisper.  Dropping to  my

knees, hands on either side of the clear pool of water, I

sipped and was transported back to another time. An

aged shaman sat before me. Legs crossed, hands

gripping his knees, his face was tanned and lined. He

wore leather clothing, beadwork and headdress.

Penetrating eyes locked with mine. Studying me, he

spoke in a calm low voice.  "The Great Spirit made this

land and gave us all things needed to live and thrive-

water, deer, buffalo and more. the sun, moon and stars

are not ours. Tell your people this. What they take by

force will be taken from them. Be well my son."

© 2013 Richard L. Weatherly

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