Three eyes was not in truth her name,but what was respectfully whispered by those who spoke of her,honored for her dreaming ways,and her spirit speaking.
How old was hard to tell,as not one peer remained to say,tiny and wizened,face that looked like dried crab apple,but so gently was her every word spoken.
A cook whose fire was never empty,healer whose touch was cool and loving,a smile that could warm you on the coldest day of winter,so loved was this Elder.
Set apart was her warm house,her summer home a cave above the valley,always open was her door to any who came seeking,none questioned her connections.
Such stories she would tell of the past of our People,how many young girls she has taught to carry forward our history,spell bound her words would leave you.
Why now a council called,why question the vision she is sharing,why when in all her years she has yet to be mis spoken,can it be fear alone that turns the People from her?
What she tells is horrifying,of ghosts who come into our lands with fire and thunder,who command a magic so far beyond our knowing,whose thirst for blood will leave us decimated.
All the Elders are speaking of the winter she has passed,kept to herself and mourning as if her only child was dying,crying out against the dreams Great Mystery is showing.
The whole village hears her whispered prayers,begging that this not be so,that her beloved kin will not soon be dying in great numbers,a sickness first that no medicines can wipe out.
No more stories told of a past filled with might and glory,no warriors brave and true,no more beloved woman,no sweet tales of tsisdu trickster and learning good behavior.
Death and war are all she speaks,blood and despair that will claim our children forever,and such strangeness she tells of a race of white skinned hairy monsters.
It must be the leaders say,that she no longer is whole minded,too long she has walked in both worlds,too many times the spirits sought her,they could not believe their whole world was ending.
Prepare she cried,be aware that what comes can not be diverted,swarming like the locust they will swallow whole the earth before them,leaving for our children nothing.
It is Mother Earth herself these others will be claiming,and yet,they will show no respect for her,it is in death they walk for they have no honor,infants they will seem,but they bring murder.
Their gods are terrible,the wrath they teach is that of kin killer,no laws they have or understand,no caring for each other,with sobbing breath she warns us.
She must be quieted said some,she so frightens the young ones,her doom crying must be stopped what one people could kill the whole world,what people could be so bloody?
These tales must not be told,it is bad spirits that control her,there are no white skinned peoples,grandmother sun would soon boil them,the eyes she describes are blind ones.
They heard,but would not believe,could not believe,such terrifying madness,what people would so over breed as to destroy their own world,cut away the trees and grasses?
Who could believe the hoards of ghosts she spoke of,who would slaughter both human and animal,for no better reason than fear and difference,who would so disrespect the very earth they stand on?
And so the council spoke,though with love and respect,and old Three Eyes fell silent,into her cave she moved both winter and summer,and her eyes remained so full of sadness.
Whispered silence,prayers and crying,they would not hear,and she could not leave them to face alone the darkness,while into one child she poured her secrets.
How many since have mourned that Creators children did not listen,how many times have they wished they had recognized her wisdom,how many know that endings do happen?
as told by my grandmother