A Feather

As I lay sleeping I was dreaming,
Dreaming of a child I once was.
I was sitting in a circle, a sacred circle.
In this circle were the people of our past.
They were laughing and having a good time.
The fire burned bright, casting deep shadows of its light.
An old man entered, a medicine man it seemed.
The tipi went quiet as he made his way to his place of honor.
He sat in silence for a while before he spoke.
He spoke in our language, a very old language that I can no longer understand.
The people were silent and listened with respect.
He spoke for a very long time and when he finished
He left as quietly as he entered.
And where he had sat there was a feather,
A feather glowing in its own light.
The people remained silent, staring at the feather.
Then someone took the feather and handed it to me, and said,
“This feather will guide you through the circle of life.”
When I woke I found to my right
A feather, glowing in its own light.

Frank Plaited Hair and his father are from the Blood Reserve in southern Alberta; his mother is from the Blackfeet Reservation in Montana. He is studying Computers at Red Crow Community College and enjoys fishing, biking, camping, children, and the stories of our past. He is a member of the Brave Horse Society, one of three societies that prepare our Sundance each year in late summer. The society has helped him search for a better life and overcome the problems of drugs and alcohol. He is proud to be a native person and shows this through his belief in our culture and the prayers he says for all the people he knows and does not know.