Upon the open plain
Great billowing clouds rise up on the horizon
And press up against the face of the sky.

Off in the distance, the sound of thunder,
The thundering of powerful hooves,
A sea of brown curled fur blanketing the open prairie.

It is Tatanka most brave and proud,
Running unfettered and free.
Look long and hard, see and feel the pride.

Look upon the sea of thunder
As it moves as one from side to side.
Gaze upon it's leaders, swift and true.

They are the heart of the herd.
They stand courageous and sure.
One such I can see, as they race toward me.

He is pure of heart.
He is true
And he stands as one with the herd.

He is mindful of his strengths,
And forgiving of his weaknesses,
For he leads and must not be hindered.

He avoids the arrow
And the rifle shot,
But does not run in the face of danger.

He stands with the herd and protects the young.
None can sway him.
He is my friend, he is my brother, he is Buffalo Son.

Copyright A.G. Poetry