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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