have argued and complained ; then sung and howled ; at the
massacre of the buffalo... as much as I have certainly lamented
the consequent decimation of the tribes. But reality is often
more a matter of perspective, and there are certainly more
than two perpectives out there.
is the perpective of Crow. And by Crow I am not talking of
the tribe, but of the bird itself. For mine eyes are at moon-light,
even keener than Eagle's eye is at midday. And if I but take
a bite of those corpse-eyes, as pray, I can see the spirits
walk from their lay corpses...
gnos I, the sway of the soul into the next world ; the etheric
world, from whence the spirit can go many places. Such are
the manifold realms that the newly dead soul may wander, that
I have not time to mention them all now. Suffice to say, that
whomsever kills you, takes your soul into its fold ; and you
will incarnate as their kin of spirit within the very next
moon or two. Or three if its winter and there is a blood moon.
its clear that those whom murdered the buffalo, then gave
birth to the spirits of those buffalo.
look to the plains and you may wail, "they massacred
the buffalo !!", just as I wail too. But I say to you:
"the white people ARE the buffalo!!!", the same
countless millions that YOU have hunted for many moons before
your ancestors ever saw a paleface.
I pecked at the other eye..
I began to gno beyond etheric worlds which I had seen before,
and deep ... deep into the Astral realm ; where it became
clear, that this had been the buffalo's intent all along....!
aching were their sides from your arrows and tomahawks. Where
their wounds bled rivers for time beyond the stars. And those
howls of anguish ran high into the wells of stars that are
too far to even see.