GHOST SHIRT.

A man with powerful medicine,
Spoke for all to hear,
Telling us if we danced like Ghost,
We would have nothing to fear. 

And so we chanted sacred words,
As we danced around the flames,
Believing in our hearts
That our lives were about to change. 

Our women made us sacred garments,
To wear upon our chest,
We gave them the name Ghost shirts,
Because they had been blessed. 

The white man came to hear of this,
And tried to forbid us our rights,
But we all knew within our hearts,
He was spoiling for a fight. 

So we crept away from the reservation,
Where we were forced to live in shame,
So that our spirits could once again sing free,
And our people are free from pain. 

But the government would not let us be,
And sent their army after me,
They hunted us with such savagery,
Then took my shirt away from me. 

Shunkepi Nunpi
January 2004

SUN DANCE.

He pierces my breast,
With sharpened bone,
I do not speak,
I do not groan,
Attached to them,
Are leather thongs,
The Holy man works,
Whilst singing a song. 

“Oh Great spirit,
Help them in their quest,
To live a good life,
And to do their best,
Send them the light,
To brighten their way,
Show them the path,
And the sacred ways.” 

Then I move slowly back,
Which tightens the thongs,
I begin my Sun Dance,
As I chant my own song.
Around in a circle I dance,
Like the way of life,
Silent prayers I offer up,
For my children and wife. 

I look straight at the sun,
Which blurs my sight,
But I keep on dancing,
For I know that it’s right,
To suffer the pain,
That burns within my breast,
For my prayers to be answered,
I know I must not rest. 

From the time that the sun,
Rises in the blue sky,
To the moment it sinks,
As the day slowly dies,
I dance in the glory
As I ignore the pain,
Until the time comes,
When we will dance once again. 

My energy is spent,
As I grow very weak,
I lean back on the thongs,
And the bones are released.
I fall to the ground,
And lay in a heap,
My Sun Dance is over,
But now comes the feast.

Shunkepi Nunpi
January 2004

WHO I AM.

My name is not Indian,
Neither is it Redman or Sioux,
The Great Spirit made me Lakota,
I will not accept a name from you. 

He made me a Human Being,
A warrior true and brave,
He did not put me on this earth,
To become a white mans slave. 

He sends to me the visions,
That helps to guide my way,
And supplies the bounty of these lands,
To keep my hunger at bay. 

He fills the many rivers,
So that I may quench my first,
These lands He made my lands,
Because He placed me here first. 

Who I am is so important,
For you to understand,
Because it is the reason
I will die to protect who I am.

Shunkepi Nunpi
January 2004