With Indian fires going out, <br />new ones kindled in the West, <br />but for Indians in the drought <br />nothing ever could arrest <br />coldness in the soul that came <br />from perception of the dying <br />of the spirit, with the flame <br />extinguished by the Creek when crying, <br />and by Cherokees when choking <br />in the bitterness of grief, <br />as their victors smiled while smoking, <br />sharing peace pipes with the Chief. <br /> <br /> Stuart Ferguson writes about an exhibition of paintings of Creek and Cherokee chiefs by Henry Inman in Renzo Pianos new addition to the High Museum of Art in Atlanta (WSJ,3/15/06) . He writes: <br /> <br />As orator of the Creek Confederacy, Yoholo-Micco (known to whites as Chief Eufaula) addressed the Alabama legislature in 1836, just prior to his peoples final removal to Arkansas: In these lands which have belonged to my forefathers and where their bones are buried, I see that the Indian fires are going out. Soon they will be cold. New fires are lighting in the West for us, and we will go there. I do not believe our Great Father means to harm his red children, but that he wishes us well. <br /> <br /> <br />3/15/06<br /><br />gershon hepner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/new-fires/
