Wednesday, October 7, 2009

an american indian's version of the 23rd psalm.

The Great Father above is a Shepherd Chief. I am his and with him. I want not. He throws out to me a rope, and the name of the rope is love, and he draws me to where the grass is green and the water is not dangerous.

Sometimes my heart is very weak, and falls down, but he lifts it up again and draws me into a good road.

Sometime, it may be very soon, it may be longer, it may be a long, long time, he will draw me into a place between mountains. It is dark there, but I'll draw back not. I'll be afraid not, for it is in there between the mountains that the Shepherd Chief will meet me, and the hunger I have felt in my heart all this life will be satisfied.

Sometimes he makes the love rope into a whip, but afterwards he gives me a staff to lean on.

He spreads a table before me with all kinds of food. He puts his hands upon my head, and all the "tired" is gone.

My cup he fills, till it runs over.

What i tell you is true, I lie not. The roads that are "away ahead" will stay with me through this life, and afterward I will go to live in the "Big Tepee" and sit down with the Shepherd Chief forever.

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