An Opportunity to be Better - Chapter 5 Page 3




The scene with the Native Americans. The chairs in the raised area at the rear of the stage will later be occupied by some of Morganville's original settlers and their immediate descendants.

Native-American Scene

Many years ago this evening,
In the memory of none,
In the mind of no one living,
Though the story lives somehow,
Proved by arrows in the pastures,
Arrows children still are finding,
Indians camped where we are sitting.
Where the deep, hard paths go winding
Over prairie yet unplowed,
Arrows point the farewell route;
All that's left of futile battles -
Arrows washed of blood long since,
Lost and harmless under daisies.

Who was it whose silver arrows
Chased the dark o'er hill and valley?
Did they love this land as we do?
See the beauty in the springtime,
Plan it for their children always,
In the drowsy dreamy sunshine,
In the never-ending summer?

Did they laugh to see a star fall,
Were there those who saw the forked road,
Saw it as they followed wild things?
Saw the ring around the moon;
Saw the sun dogs and the omens?

Do their Indian spirits watch us?
Are they angry still or tranquil?
Have the many moons and suns since
Washed blue calm across their souls?
Has our tall corn yet appeased them?
Do they see our cattle graze,
Feeling by the great sun spirit,
We were chosen for these ways?

They have slipped away forever,
Past the misty, purple hill rim.
Leaving only chiseled flint heads;
Leaving us uneasy hearts;
Leaving us the untouched great sky;
Leaving us the gallant legends;
Leaving us to mend the peace pipes;
Leaving us the forked road!