Each day,
the women continued to struggle ahead.
They were grieving and agonizing over the
many dead.
Each new day it was becoming more difficult
to do.
It was completely hopeless in most of their
views.
Without the aid of the mothers, the old
shamans knew
that none of the children would make it
through.
All of the younger children were entirely
too frail.
The mothers had lost hope and had begun to
wail.
When the old wise men began to take notice
of this,
they were afraid, that the clans would cease
to exist.
The old wise men then earnestly began to
pray.
They knew things could not continue this
way.
That night, each shaman had the same dream.
For the Great Spirit had made of them a
team.
In the dream, the Great Spirit began to
speak,
He knew the women had become much too weak.
He said to tell the women to look back up
the trail,
and they would see a promise to help them
prevail.
To a renewal of faith and hope they would be
exposed.
For a beautiful flower, from their tears,
had a rose.
They were roses of white, like the purity of
their hearts,
they knew the Great Spirit from them would
not depart.
Their Creator, had reassured them to an
amazing degree.
With this rose, He had strengthened His
people, the Cherokee.
Joyful Jan © May 2010
This poem was inspired by the Legend of
the Cherokee Rose. The rose continues to
grow,
even today, along the route of the Trail Of
Tears.
It is the State Flower of Georgia.
One-fourth of the Cherokee People
died on that trail.
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