Golden Yarns
Yarns we spin of old,
Makes the young bold.
They when hearing it,
Go in search of spirit,
Learn to chant and sing,
Doth timely rains bring.
Finding their inner soul,
And become really bold.
The old ways try and do,
Walk true the path anew,
Continually on the way,
Both at night and in day,
To search in any weather,
Bear claw; eagle feather;
Much pain; no tears cried;
To a new brave with pride.
The elders smile and nod.
On the good path to trod,
Much better than all gold,
Are the yarns spun of old.
poem by Joseph Blitch
Added by Poetry Lover
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