In Both Lives
 by Teri Sharp
In both lives my Indian brave stands tall and strong,
For the earlier times, his soul does long.
Today he's dressed in tee-shirt & blue jeans,
But his deerskin and feathers my true eye has seen.
As he strides into camp with freshly-dressed kill,
The other braves admiring his hunting skill.
In both lives he hears the call of the river,
And has dreams which make his soul shiver.
He delights in play - he's truly one of a kind,
His touch, from the heart, causes our souls to bind.
I share his visions of an earth filled with love,
Of respect for nature, both below and above.
He's gentle and creative, like the artist true;
Bringing to life his visions of the waterfall's blue.
Each time we make love, it's a sacred rite;
I gladly welcome him to my robes at night.
With each encounter, our souls more truly become one;
We share our dreams until the rising of the sun.
I sleep deeply, secure in his strong, encircling arms;
At the sight of his smile, my heart always warms.
He belongs to the past, my brave, wild and free;
I thank the gods he's here to share the present with me. |
