Native

I was never looking for a savior

I was looking for a co-creator

someone I could build a fire with

to warm our hearts and home

Now my tears have put out the flames

of the embers you promised would always rage

and the smoke signals

whisper

of the life I live alone.

You're up high on white horse mountain

I'm down here in the valley low

fighting wars that were never mine to own

You shoot arrows without aiming

complain of the wood piles I've been rearranging

using your past as a map

that will never lead you to tomorrow

I was born a native to this land

with roots strong and wild like the wind

It's something you'll never understand

Thank God the creation

has always been in the palms of my hands.