As I stand with my feet planted in the lands where my ancestors had lived, hunted, fished, grown their crops and raised their families, I lifted up my chin, raised my face to the sky and closed my eyes.
The wind was cool against my face. I listened to the vastness of the different birds singing and my soul began to weep for my peoples’ plight. How hellish it must have been to be uprooted from their homeland, treated as less than human and made to become “civilized” or be segregated due to the only culture they had known from birth.
To either be assimilated or separated. Like cattle, herded to a barren and seemingly desolate foreign land, compared to the one they’d known. No more to hear the song birds as they did in the woods, on the hills and valleys. To be in a land where only their God was familiar.
The PhoenixNest 
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