Florida's Foreverly Shores
The Cherokee Has Spoken
I stand and gaze over land my forefathers trod.
They walked with spirits I have known.
Moccasin prints in the grass below my feet.
I walk with the vision of their gods.
From the North I feel the cold, cold wind,
and from the East the rain...
I know the setting of the Westerly sun,
and the land of the South calls my name.
I do not need to see them,
only to believe they are there
I am compelled to seek those spirits
and to surely hear their cries.
This is the land the Cherokee walked ...
This is the land where I'll die.
And in my passing I,too,will leave
stories for those to come.
I'll tell the tale of the Cherokee ...
on the setting of my sun.
The tears have fallen,
the deeds were done.
I cannot change the legends of time.
When the freshwater pools are salted with tears
I'll know that this is where the Cherokee died.
Into the final longhouse
I will enter with pride.
For where the Cherokee walked the trails ...
I will surely reside.
And those who follow these paths
will know the truth that I say,
I am one proud Cherokee
well past my dying day.