A million stars were glowing underneath a poet's moon 
And the desert's shadows watched as I drove by.
A gypsy wind was blowing a relentless feral tune
As it swept the thunderheads across the sky. 

I had overtaken midnight; I was in my car alone
While driving through the Arizona night.
Across the lonely flatlands, no other headlights shone.
My speeding car: the desert's only sight. 

Then the gypsy wind stopped blowing, as though turned off by
a switch,
And I got this eerie feeling deep inside.
Then, from my car, I heard a sound that squealed with alien
pitch 
And the engine in my car just simply died. 

The Firebird coasted to a stop; I mouthed a silent curse
And knew that I was stranded and alone
Some eighty miles from nowhere and, to make the matter
worse,
No way that I could get there on my own. 

I stepped outside and listened to the silence of the night
And wondered why the wind had ceased to blow.
Then I saw this cloud formation touch the ground off to my
right 
And approach me with an iridescent glow. 

Rolling towards me like a wave, its billows tossed and
turned,
I watched it near while I stood full of awe.
It stopped a hundred yards from me; the cloud no longer
churned
And emerging from the wispy haze, I saw 

A band of Indian horsemen with warpaint on their face
And feathered lances pointing at the sky.
They rode their unshod ponies toward me at a furious pace
As I prayed to God and then prepared to die. 

Their leader stopped in front of me and locked onto my gaze
For what seemed to be a full eternity;
And in his steely eyes I saw a fire begin to blaze
And then the man began to speak to me: 

"I am Cochise, the leader of the proud Apache clan
And I tell you there's no reason for alarm.
My body's but a spirit now as are those of my men.
We will not, cannot cause you any harm. 

We were once on reservations; subjected to abuse;
You took away our land; our liberty.
You sent us off to places that you thought were of no use
And we had to die to set our proud souls free. 

And now we fly the gypsy wind and search the nighttime sky
For cosmic plain and starlit grassy glade;
And now and then we land on earth to ride instead of fly
And check on all the progress that you've made. 

You took our virgin country; took our sacred burial plots;
Took the trails that we once rode before you came
And replaced them all with shopping malls and concrete
parking lots
And, in so doing, chased away the game. 

You've introduced an acid rain that kills the fish it
meets;
The lakes and streams now have a sickly stench.
The way of life for people living in your ghettos' streets
Makes our very souls and stomachs start to wrench. 

And, in any given village, there's a freeway clogged with
cars
And spots where all who walk had best beware.
In any given village, there's a dozen topless bars
And a plant releasing toxins in the air. 

And, in my savage ignorance, I have to shake my head
And wonder why you've done the things I've seen.
Have your tribes' ideals and morals all simply fallen dead?
Has respect for man and earth now turned obscene?" 

Then, one hundred yards behind him, the cloud began to glow
And that was when the conversation ceased.
The band of Indian horsemen knew that it was time to go
And from their cosmic spell I was released. 

They turned as one and disappeared into the veil of light.
And I pondered all the questions that they'd brought;
And as the cloud was lifted up and disappeared from sight
I sent my answer to them with this thought: 

I wish that I could ride with you upon the gypsy wind
And let your vibrant history fill my mind.
And I agree with what you said; that many men have sinned
And tainted up the land you left behind. 

And there's no justifying the things that some men do
Or those who simply turn the other way.
But you can't crucify us all for sins of just a few.
You can only hope that Justice comes one day. 

And some of us have learned that even sinning has its worth
If the lessons learned can serve to make you strong.
And some of us still cling to a dream for planet Earth:
A world where there's more right than there is wrong. 

So I shed my tears for what our fathers' fathers did to you
And I wish that I could undo what's been done.
But I can only forge ahead and keep my ideals true
And if I can then it's the battle won. 

And maybe one day I'll be there to ride the wind with you
And maybe you and I will be good friends.
And maybe we'll reflect on all the history we've been
through
And how the saga never really ends. 

And maybe when we visit earth upon our ghostly steeds
To check on all the progress that they've made,
We'll find a world filled to the brim with men's heroic
deeds.
Then the dues of history finally will be paid. 

Copyright 2001 - Phil Cerasoli