• The Blood of Bison
• Grandfather Bison
• Live-with-the-Bison
• Don't be seedin'

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The Blood of Bison

The blood of bison, warm to this cold hand,
the blood of bison, generous to the land,
blood of bison, frozen, dried to my sleeve,
may the blood of bison, never ever leave.

The thought of bison, strong, proud and free,
the thought of bison, standing in front of me,
thought of bison, numerous shall you be,
may the thought of bison, be all that you can see.

The Spirit of the bison, Grandfather, live and die,
the Spirit of the bison, teach us how to cry,
Spirit of the bison, you're gift we must thank thee,
may the Spirit of the bison, feed us until eternity.

Don't bother us please, it's kill day eve!
We must dance with the Great Spirit,
as in sacrifice we must bereave,
the blood of bison.

Good Friday, April 18th/03
Rod J Potter

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Grandfather Bison

Look at all the fences,
the green fields and the streams,
appreciated by great expenses,
the poor yields, and the dreams.
Look at all the bison,
my how they can deceive,
acknowledged by great perception,
in them we can believe.

Wisdom shall withhold it's future,
vision pays it's price,
yet being able to assist and nurture,
brings a feeling suffice.
Knowledge knows it's limits,
they shall remain untamed,
respect the mighty creatures,
their true spirit has been named.

You are the first sacred teaching,
your name never taken in vain,
matters not what we are reaching,
we will always remain the same.
Give us your sign for one moment,
accept us for what we are,
"shall we bury the hatchet",
and maybe even the scar.

Grandfather bison, in your teaching,
you have taught us respect,
your lands on which to graze,
we shall not neglect.

R J Potter

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Live with the Bison

If only everyone could live with the bison like I do,
almost the way the indians lived with them centuries ago,
it's to bad we all couldn't live with each other,
the way the Great Spirit will say it is so.

It's to bad we haven't learned from the bison,
what they have been teaching us thru the years,
that there is no sense in just running rampant,
and falling prey to our fears.

It's pleasure to become part of the forest,
to live in amongst the trees,
but you have to stay in one place forever,
and you can't do exactly as you please.

And so as the winds take the deadwood,
so will the heat take the breeze,
and so will the beasts of the earth,
do exactly as they please.

For Centuries they have been roaming,
for ages they shall continue to roam,
and for as long as there is life on this planet,
the bison shall call it their home.

R J Potter

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"Don't be seedin'"

Don't be turnin' no more of that land, do you hear me? Whoa!
Don't be turnin' no more of that sod, do you hear boys?
Don't be seedin' them wild oats, or jumpin off a boat that floats!
Don't be turnin' the sod no more hear me boys!

There is a thunderin' across the land,
there is a savior that has come to man,
there is a feeling that comes so grand,
it is the beast that does respect command.

Where there is grass and clover seed more,
where there are thistles and weeds seed lots,
cause you can hear them coming from afar,
their bones rattled in a wooden wagon car.

Their fields were badly burned,
there were no entities returned,
it was called the old bisox plow,
it traveled to here somehow,
there was a new sky above,
there was a cold stream full of love,
it brought us to wonder and wow,
we slaughtered them anyhow.

We created a depleted nation,
we encouraged a great inspiration,
and by luck or sheer admiration,
we returned to a true sensation.

So don't be turnin' the land no more boy's,
do you hear me Whoa!
Leave the sod boy's, please leave it,
leave it right side right!
For they saw a big herd a coming,
oh 'bout a week last night,
yes they saw them up yonder valley, so expect. them thru tonight!

Rod Potter
Nov 9/96

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