Lest anyone think you speak in a place where word will not reach "Indian Country", of who you are, and what you say and how you say it, I say - think again. As it has always been, and will always be - the Moccasin telegraph runs in Indian Country, only now it is electric sometimes. This can mean much or little to each here.   Best, John B

Cyber Indin's

With lightning's energy, 
the messengers go forth. 
Across the land, 
as if on wings. 
Assemble, and be heard.

Voices are heard, 
sharing messages. 
From clan to clan, 
tribe to tribe. 
Assemble, and be heard.

Translation comes hard, 
across a metal landscape. 
But never slowing, 
never stopping. 
Assemble, and be heard.

Capital Voices, 
homeland energy. 
Dissenting, with respect, 
and sometimes not. 
Assemble, and be heard.

The messengers speed, 
to homes and offices. 
Carrying news, 
good times and sad. 
Assemble, and be heard.

Carrying the words, 
voicing thoughts. 
They will not be stopped, 
the messengers. 
Assemble, and be heard.

Finally, 
decisions may be reached. 
Standing up, 
speaking once again. 
Assemble, and be heard.

On the lines, 
of copper, steel, sand and trail. 
The moccasin telegraph runs. 
We assemble, 
and we will be heard.

John Berry 
Oklahoma 
C 1997 

Return to Story Index