25 September 2012
The search party had been gone for 3 suns now The villagers prayed she could finally be found.......
Beating Hands was determined to fulfil his destiny The time had come to complete the prophecy So he ventured out with the search party 50 strong of his fellow tribesmen, like a mini army
Beating Hands was named for the way he chopped, carved and manipulated wood He produced pieces like no other man could His skills were taught from early childhood By his father, (Carving Hands) who had taught him to be perfectly good
The search party army made camp on the 2nd night The forest clearing was bathed in full moon light Wild Knowing Flower gathered berries, mushrooms and edible roots For Dancing Fire to prepare and cook their buffalo stew
The army gave thanks to their gods They asked the morning sun to guide them to where they needed to look Beating Hands drank more of the Shamans potion than he normally would They all danced with hopeful songs in bare foot
Beating Hands slept alone on the edge of camp His soul departed as his ancestors beckoned him with open hands He followed in through the trees memorising the route from where he'd came Then he wept as he finally discovered the tree to complete what his family had once began
He returned to his body and woke with a fright As the camp had been compromised in the still calmness of night An unknown tribe was now here right before his eyes He looked around as all his own tribesmen had died And he asked the white man with guns "why?"
The white men couldn't understand what Beating Hands was saying He looked into the distance to see the forest burning As a white man raised his gun Beating Hands noticed on his uniform symbol of a tree And he closed his eyes and carved out in his mind the totem pole that would now never be complete
Beating Hands • Opuss № I