Make your own free website on

Home | Ghost Stories | Photo's | More pics | Picture of the Month | EVP | Investigations | Members | Haunted Places Index | Prayers | Ghost Hunters Tool Box | Do's And Dont's | Subversive Spirits | Cool Links | Native American Poetry | Search
Native American Poetry

I'm not here

Don't stand by my grave and weep
For I am not there,I do not sleep
I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamonds glint on snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autums rain
When you awaken in mornings hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quite birds in circle flight
I am the soft stars that shine at night
Do not stand at my grave and cry
I am not there,I did not die.

Apache blessing

Now you will feel no rain,
for each of you will be shelter for the other
Now you will feel no cold,
for each of you will be warmth to the other.
Now there is no loneliness,
for each of you will be companion to the other.
Now you are two persons,
but therer is only one life before you.
Go now to your dwelling to enter into
the days of your life together
And may your days be good
and long upon earth.


Dream song/Twisted Hair
by Little Wolf

This is the way of it, Let the story be lighted.
let our circle be strong and full of medicine.
hear me...this is my dream song that I am singing for you.
This is my power song that has taken my edge.
This is my talking birth song for a new day.
This is rock medicine, the talking tree,the singing water.

Listen....I am dancing underneath you.

it is a is a is a is a canoe on a is a memory from long is an arrow in is a medicine is what happend long is a bead in a story is a memory.
it is what has been is a camp is the smell os sweetgrass and cedar and prayers to the skyfather.
it is a life...a tradition...the way it has always been done by the people. it is a is the feel of warmth and the sound of voices.

Listen...I am dancing underneath you.

Dancing on the shore of a river in the moonlight,Calling me to the campfire to sit and listen to the people and remember.

Listen...I am dancing underneath you.

By Chief Seattle

Every part of this land is sacred to my people.
Every shining pine needle, Every sandy shore, Every mist in the dark woods, Every clearing and humming insect is holy in the memory and experience of my people.The sap which courses through the trees carries the memories of the red man.

We are part of the earth and it is part of us. The perfumed flowers are our sisters.The deer,The horse,The great eagle,
these are our brothers. The rocky crests,The juices in the meadows,The body heat of the pony,and man...all belong to the same family.

What is man without the beast? If all beast were gone,man would die from great loneliness of spirit.For what happends to the beast,soon happends to man.All things are connected.

The earth does not belong to man; man belongs to the earth.
Man did not weave the web of life;He is mearly a strand of it.What ever he does to the web,he does to himself.

One thing we know. Our god is the same god. This earth is precious to him. Even the white man cannot be exempt from the common destiny.We may be brothers after all, we shall see.

by Maquinna

Once I was in Victoria and i saw a very large house. they told me it was a bank, and that the white men place their money there to be taken care of, and that by and by they got it back with intrest.

We are Indians, we have no such bank, but when we have plenty if money blankets, we give then away to other cheifs and people, and by an by they return with intrest, and our hearts feel good. our way of giving is our bank.


How then can I tell you of my love,Strong as an Eagle
 soft as a Dove patient as a pine tree that stands in the sun.
And whispers in the wind that you are the one.

The voices in the wind.
O great spirit, whose voice I hear in the winds.
Hear me-- for I am weak I need your strength and wisdom. I seek strength, O great one. Not to be superior to my brothers. But to conquer my greatest enemy: Myself, I seek wisdom in every leaf and rock so that I may learn and carry these messages of life and hope to my people.
May my hands respect the many beautiful things you have made. May my ears be sharp-to hear your voice. May I always walk in your beauty and let my eyes behold the red and purple sunset, so that when life fades with the setting of the sun,
My spirit will come to you without shame.