The Meeting
The cool wind swept the open plain
From all four corners Indians came
Bent on unity they sat around
The hill of wisdom called the Mound
Long they talked into the night
Each a chief in their own right
The pipe was passed from hand to hand
With water produced on demand
The women and children built the camp
That would protect them from the damp
At last they broke, but without a plan
Vowing to return and talk man to man
Morning came with the rising sun
Coyotes howled, the day had begun
They met once more as one fearless tribe
Seeking truth and knowledge to survive
Again they sat around the Mound
Believing the answers could be found
The elders talked, each one a sage
Speaking from experience of a forgotten age
On this went for a week or two
All of them knew it was right to do
They talked all day and into the night
None wanted the alternative, to fight
Then one spoke, not old, but young
An elder said forked words that stung
The speaker stood firm and held his ground
Gazing at those who were all around
The eldest gestured that he go on
So he told of fights that he had won
But not feeling good about these deeds
He had long thought which sowed the seeds
All day he spoke to those captive ears
His words dispelling all their fears
A light was seen in the distance
That would reward their hard persistence
The youth did something not done before
He had prevented an all out war
In silence they sat around the Mound
Each knew the answers had been found
Communication had been the key
To living together peacefully
With this ray of hope each went their way
Moving forward towards a bright new day
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