Can you hear the language
that is spoken by the trees?
Can you sense the ancient ones,
blowing with the breeze?
The eagle set his wings to flight,
in motion with the moon
The medicine wheel is spinning,
dark days upon us soon
Their voices all around us
in the shadows of our fears
Advising to get ready
as the ending days draw near
Speak up to all the nations
make your voice be loudly heard
Our beating drums have joined force
the merging has occurred
She has seven stars upon her head
and a torch to light the way
But she’s not the one to follow.
Her red, white, blue’s in disarray
Therefore seek your inner voice
and also listen to the trees
They're asking us to pray for peace,
with the ancients in the breeze
Adding your comment:
Thank you, I really appreciate the look-see, applaud and comment
Dove*
