Crossroads
By: Little Strongheart
I sit at the crossroads of two worlds,
One of ancient chants and ceremonies,
And the other of colonization and science,
And I pray that I can be part of one of them,
But alas; acceptance seems like a distant sunset,
That I can never reach no matter how long I run after it.
So I sit here waiting,
For some hoof to grab me,
And pull me up from the waves of loneliness,
Closing in on each side,
But I know that I am the only one,
Who can truly save my culture’s spirit,
From drowning in the end.
So I sit here waiting,
Between the cliff sides of two mountains,
But I know I shall never budge from my crevice,
For neither buffalo culture nor pony culture,
Lay the framework of my inner being,
And as much I wish for belonging,
I know I shall always lay waiting between,
The crossroads of these two landmarks.