Education

Walk Mindfully Over Southern Soil

Walk mindfully over this good land we call the Deep South.
Picture a million children playing carefree in her sandy soil.
And when you hear the wind moaning through her tall, gentle pines,
Imagine a million Mothers and Grandmothers tending gardens
And going about their work with deft hands and cheerful heart.
When you see the dark waters of her rivers, creeks and swamps,
Remember a million warriors, hunting and fishing the bounty
of her forests and streams to feed their families.
And when you gaze at her azure sky, remember the Master of Breath,
Who heard the People's prayers for a thousand years
And blessed them abundantly.
The face of the South may be forever changed,
Her First People banished from the land.
But forget not. The Spirit of the Old Ones is still here, calling their own.
This red clay and sandy white soil we love so well will always be
Indian soil, made sacred for a thousand years by the ashes of the ancestors.
Walk mindfully and remember. . .