THE SHAMAN I KNEW
The Shaman I knew was not old and wise;
She did not ware a blindfold across her lovely eyes.
Blessed with an insight from where her wisdom grew,
She was troubled only by her knowledge of the racist view.
She was gifted with the delicate touch of the healing hand,
With a deep love of children that only they can understand.
There was fire in her eyes and goodness in her soul,
Admiration for her people was the thing that made her whole.
Great courage was manifest in her every deed;
Every project that she inspired was destined to succeed.
She was a surgeon and a realist a sailor and a friend,
A human being with a vision that is hard to comprehend.
She was an athlete with a spirit, filled with joy and glee,
When she passed through the veil we all knew she was free.
©Copyright January 20, 2008 by Colin F. Jones
Author’s Note: In Memory of Becky Grey Eagle