Place 2 go 2 get some of the art work and poems is at:

   spiritscents.com

To listen 2 Native music and news go 2: airos.org

 

I listen 2 Native Music from all over on me 'puter...

The Red Road is what I follow and will always believe in this as that this is me...

Native American Prayer
Oh, Great Spirit
Whose voice I hear in the winds,
And whose breath gives life to all the world,
hear me, I am small and weak,
I need your strength and wisdom.

Let me walk in beauty
and make my eyes ever behold the red and purple sunset.
Make my hands respect the things your have made
and my ears sharp to hear your voice.
Make me wise so that I may understand
the things you have taught my people.
Let me learn the lessons you have
hidden in every leaf and rock.

I seek strength, not to be greater than my brother,
but to fight my greatest enemy - myself.
Make me always ready to come to you
with clean hands and straight eyes.
So when life fades, as the fading sunset,
my Spirit may come to you without shame.

- Chief Yellow Lark -
Lakota -

The Teaching of Tecumseh
Live your life that the fear of death
can never enter your heart.
Trouble no one about his religion.
Respect others in their views
and demand that they respect yours.
Love your life, perfect your life,
beautify all things in your life.
Seek to make your life long
and of service to your people.
Prepare a noble death song for the day
when you go over the great divide.
Always give a word or sign of salute when meeting
or passing a friend, or even a stranger,if in a lonely place
Show respect to all people, but grovel to none.
When you rise in the morning, give thanks for the light,
for your life, for your strength.
Give thanks for your food and for the joy of living.
If you see no reason to give thanks,
the fault lies in yourself.
Touch not the poisonous firewater that makes wise ones turn to fools
and robs the spirit of its vision.
When your time comes to die, be not like those
whose hearts are filled with fear of death,
so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again
in a different way.
Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home.

For Dallas, my friend.....

 

The Cab Ride

 

   Twenty years ago, I drove a cab for a living.

   When I arrived at 2:30 a.m., the building was dark except for a
single light in a ground  floor window.

   Under these circumstances, many drivers would just honk once or
twice, wait a minute, then drive away.

   But, I had seen too many impoverished people who depended on taxis
as their only means of transportation.

   Unless a situation smelled of danger, I always went to the door.

   This passenger might be someone who needs my assistance, I reasoned
to myself.

   So I walked to the door and knocked.

   "Just a minute", answered a frail, elderly voice.

   I could hear something being dragged across the floor.

   After a long  pause, the door opened.

   A small woman in her 80's stood before me.

   She was wearing a print dress and a pillbox hat with a veil pinned on
it,
   like somebody out of a 1940s movie.

   By her side was a small nylon suitcase.

   The apartment looked as if no one had lived in it for years.

   All the furniture was covered with sheets.

   There were no clocks on the walls, no knickknacks or utensils on the
counters.

   In the corner was a cardboard box filled with photos and glassware.

   "Would you carry my bag out to the car?" she said.

   I took the suitcase to the cab, then returned to assist the woman.

   She took my arm and we walked slowly toward the curb.

   She kept thanking me for my kindness.

   "It's nothing", I told her.

   "I just try to treat my passengers the way I would want my mother
treated".

   "Oh, you're such a good boy", she said.

   When we got in the cab, she gave me an address, then asked, "Could you
drive through downtown?"

   "It's not the shortest way," I answered quickly.

   "Oh, I don't mind," she said.

   "I'm in no hurry.

   I'm on my way to a hospice".

   I looked in the rear-view mirror.

   Her eyes were glistening.

   "I don't have any family left," she continued.

   "The doctor says I don't have very long."

   I quietly reached over and shut off the meter.

   "What route would you like me to take?" I asked.

   For the next two hours, we drove through the city.

   She showed me the building where she had once worked as an elevator
   operator.

   We drove through the neighborhood where she and her husband had lived
when they were newlyweds.

   She had me pull up in front of a  furniture warehouse that had once
been a ballroom where she had gone dancing as a girl.

   Sometimes she'd ask me to slow in front of a particular building or
corner and would sit staring into the darkness, saying nothing.

   As the first hint of sun was creasing the horizon, she suddenly
said, I'm tired.

   Let's go now."

   We drove in silence to the address she had given me.

   It was a low building, like a small convalescent home, with a
driveway that passed under a portico.

   Two orderlies came out to the cab as soon as we pulled up.

   They were solicitous and intent, watching her every move.

   They must have been expecting her.

   I opened the trunk and took the small suitcase to the door.

   The woman was already seated in a wheelchair.

   "How much do I owe you?" she asked, reaching into her purse.

   "Nothing," I said.

   "You have to make a living," she answered.

   "There are other passengers," I responded.

   Almost without thinking, I bent and gave her a hug.

   She held onto me tightly.

   "You gave an old woman a little moment of joy," she said "Thank you."

   I squeezed her hand, then walked into the dim morning light.

   Behind me, a door shut.

   It was the sound of the closing of a life.

   I didn't pick up any more passengers that shift.

   I drove aimlessly lost in thought.

   For the rest of that day, I could hardly talk.

   What if that woman had gotten an angry driver, or one who was
impatient to end his shift?

   What if I had refused to take the run, or had honked once, then
driven away?

   On a quick review, I don't think that I have done anything more
important in my life.

   We're conditioned to think that our lives revolve around great
moments.

   But great moments often catch us unaware-beautifully wrapped in what
others may consider a small one.

   PEOPLE MAY NOT REMEMBER EXACTLY WHAT 'YOU DID, OR WHAT YOU SAID, BUT
THEY WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER HOW YOU MADE THEM FEEL.

Kimmi,

You can post anywhere...lol we will find you.  Yes I noticed people sneaking in the back door ,  but the front door was too crowded.  It was chaos all nite.  But we loved it!

Kim; Was good to see you too!  All I know is there were alot of people there, but it was a really good time. Maybe next year I'll go to the pre-party, we'll see. Was it as crowded?  So anyway, what's new with you Kim?  What part of Texas do you live in? My brother just had a house built in McKinney. He likes it there but he hopes to move back to Florida in a few years where our other brother lives.  Gotta go, Ta-Ta.