With Indian fires going out,
new ones kindled in the West,
but for Indians in the drought
nothing ever could arrest
coldness in the soul that came
from perception of the dying
of the spirit, with the flame
extinguished by the Creek when crying,
and by Cherokees when choking
in the bitterness of grief,
as their victors smiled while smoking,
sharing peace pipes with the Chief.
Stuart Ferguson writes about an exhibition of paintings of Creek and Cherokee chiefs by Henry Inman in Renzo Pianos new addition to the High Museum of Art in Atlanta (WSJ,3/15/06) . He writes:
As orator of the Creek Confederacy, Yoholo-Micco (known to whites as Chief Eufaula) addressed the Alabama legislature in 1836, just prior to his peoples final removal to Arkansas: In these lands which have belonged to my forefathers and where their bones are buried, I see that the Indian fires are going out. Soon they will be cold. New fires are lighting in the West for us, and we will go there. I do not believe our Great Father means to harm his red children, but that he wishes us well.
3/15/06
gershon hepner
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/new-fires/
