THE TALKING LEAVES
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Sequoia's winters were sixteen Silent tongue spirit clean
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He walked at his father's side Across the smoking battle ground
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Where red and white men lay all around
So many here had died The wind had scattered around
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Snow white leaves upon the ground Not leaves like leaves from trees
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Sequoia said, "What can this be?" "What's the strange thing here I see?"
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"From where come leaves like these? "Sequoia turned to his father's eyes
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And he said, "Father you're wise From where come such snow white leaves

With such strange marks upon these squares
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Not even the wise owl could put them there So strange these snow white leaves"
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His father shielding his concern Resenting the knowledge Sequoia yearned
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Crumbled the snow white leaves He said, "When I explain then it's done
These are talking leaves, my son The white men's talking leaves"
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The white man takes a berry of black and red
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And an eagle's feather from the eagle's bed
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And he makes bird track marks And the marks on the leaves they say
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Carry messages to his brother far away
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And his brother knows what's in his heart
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They see these marks and they understand
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The truth in the heart of the far off man The enemies can't hear them
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Said Sequoia's father, "Son
They weave bad medicine on these talking leaves Leave such things to them"
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Then Sequoia walking lightly Followed his father quietly

But so amazed was he
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If the white man talks on leaves Why not the Cherokee?
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Vanished from his father's face Sequoia went from place to place
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But he could not forget Year after year he worked on and on
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Till finally he cut into stone The Cherokee alphabet

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Sequoia's hair by now was white
His eyes began to lose their light But he taught all who would believe
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That the Indian's thoughts could be written down
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Just as the white men's there on the ground
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And he left us these talking leaves