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As the world around me sleeps,
my spirit rises and looks and weeps.

World torn, Mother Earth ravaged,
her gift of loved so roughly savaged.

My spirit walks the land and tries,
to help and heal and ask the whys.

No one seems to think and care,
no one loves and wants to share.

I search for those who seek the ways,
by mountains, lakes, valleys and bays.

A thought, a hint, an idea I plant hoping,
new ways for people to be coping.

The East Gate I guard and watch praying,
that more would seek, my heart weighing.

Some show promise yet falter afraid to try,
to let go and let their spirits fly.

Hearts, Minds and Spirit held tight by material,
forgetting all they could gain in the spiritual.

Looking around I hope and weep,
asking Great Spirit our spirits to keep.

by White Elk
Oct 9,2001