| The rain from my eyes floods the deserts of an arid land; a land made barren by the death of loved ones, an eternal land that succours the spirits of those who have gone before and a land that abounds with their memory. And a small desert flower, The azure skies are unbroken and unlined by the clouds of doubt, The rich earth, created by the sadness of past happenings and future happiness, And the call of the Grey Eagle resonates in the Morning Light All is in concord… ©Anthony W. Pahl 11 September 2002 |
For my Spirit Daughter, Rebecca SaraAnne GreyEagle (nee SmallEagle)
Page created: Monday, 23 September 2002
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Friday, 09 May 2008
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