The Dream

The dream that once was, was a dream of beauty. It was a place of magic and peace. It was our place, our tribes' land. It was the place of our birth. We were its custodians. It was the place of our ancestors. It was their land we honoured.

Then somehow this dream became lost. We became defeated. Not by the bullets and war of white men and Europeans, but by our own acceptance of inner defeat. We looked at the idols of their worship and accepted them by fear, by force. We let the soul of our tribe and culture sleep as it has become overgrown with the weeds of despair and forgetfulness.

And over time, in spite of times of great hope, it has seemed that all hope is lost, that no wilderness of the world will remain, that all things will be consumed and defiled by those who do not respect the land. It as if we have come to the very end of the existence of our tribe, our destiny.

And it is at this point, this point now in time we realize the arrogance of our sorrow and childishness of our weakness, for it is upon us to bring rebirth to the dream, to re-awaken the tribe. It is not up to the Great Spirit to somehow turn the clock back. In fact, it is to advance forward to an even greater dream.

For when we were the dream of old, we were but one tribe. Now we are all tribes, we are the One Creation Tribe. For when we were dreams of old, before the Europeans we were masters of our land, we hunted and killed enemy tribes, now we shall be one tribe in peace and wisdom. And in being so, the dream is greater than it ever was.

More than just land rights, spirit unity.

For the indigenous, unity is far greater than any land rights or argument over indigenous recognition, it is about awakening the spirit, the soul of the people, of all indigenous people to rise up and be one.

Dreamer.