Manataka American Indian Council
By Elk Looks Back
The
song written by Robbie Robertson and Jim Wilson on his C.D. Robbie
Roberson and the Red Road Ensemble, the song entitled, 'Ghost Dance'
sums it up for today’s scourge against the peacemakers of today and in the
past. Here are the lyrics.
Crow
has brought the message
To
the children of the sun
For
the return of the buffalo
And
for a better day to come
You
can kill my body
You
can damn my soul
For
not believing in your God
And
some world down below
(chorus)
You
don’t stand a chance against my prayers
You
don’t stand a chance against my love
They
outlawed the Ghost Dance
But
we shall live again. We shall live again
My
sister above
She
has the red paint
She
died at Wounded Knee
Like
a latter day saint
You
got the big drum in the distance
Blackbird
in the sky
That’s
the sound that you hear
When
the buffalo cry
(chorus)
Crazy
Horse was a mystic
He
knew the secret of the trance
And
Sitting Bull the great apostle
Of
the Ghost Dance
Come
on Comanche
Come
on Blackfoot
Come
on Shoshone
Come
on Cheyenne
Come
on Arapaho
Come
on Cherokee
Come
on Paiute
Come
on Sioux
This
message to all tribal nations. Come on Choctaw
You
don’t stand a chance against my love I stand beside all peace makers who
turn the other cheek And choose to win freedom with love and understanding.
I
say continue to pray for the understanding of love. This is where the
miracle can happen in your life, with your families, in your communities, in our
reservations and pueblos. Our understanding of love will be the staff we lean on
in troubled times. It will part the
winds of deceit, treachery and war. Our
hearts together will restore the plan for peace among all nations.
This is the plan. This is why we are here.
I honor my friend Grand Chief Woableza for turning the other cheek when his body was struck down by people who are struggling to be Human Beings. You beat someone who has nothing you may take. He has no home, yet he posseses the strength of many nations. He came only to walk with everything to give, to keep the stories alive, and to sit in a sacred way with your hearts. You have kicked his body down but now his heart.
I
can feel it in my heart. I can hear
it in is voice. His heart soars
mighty like the wamblee galeskah. As
his friend, I say to those who oppress others with their fear, you don’t stand
a chance against my love. For I will continue to love all of you as my brothers
and sisters, mothers and fathers, in honor of my Grandfathers and Grandmothers
and ancestors. We shall live again.
His healing is our healing. His
love belongs to all of us.
This
is dedicated to my father, Roger Petersen, born in Tyler , Minnesota, September
11,1924 and died peacefully in his sleep December 12,1999.
The last gift he gave to me was an old laminated place mat showing all
the indigenous tribes f North America. “Take
this!," he said. This is also dedicated to John Lame Deer who gave me
a smudge bowl and told me to keep the embers burning while I placed my feet in a
hole in the ground filled with water.
Mitakuye Oyasin!
Elk
Looks Back
9/11/03