I see my brothers and sisters from standing rock....still standing, still praying, still protecting the water. A half dozen came down to DC the other day, was glad to go down and stand with them here, as I was to drive the thousand miles and spend time with them there. Despite our leader deciding foreign interests and the almighty dollar are worth more than clean water... I can feel bliss... But contemplate its facade. I read some passages, and they take me back to a time, of throngs listening to a robed man on a hill... His words come off the paper and into a vision of another time and space a vision of hope and peace while a SAM launcher with a 50 cal is pointed at a camp I feel kin to. The dichotomy... Why can my time of prayer and meditation, of reading and contemplation make me feel good...while homeless are within miles of me, mothers are putting kids to bed hungry... And hundred year old treaties are being trampled? And now I kill the bliss...the wave of beauty and light wanes as guilt, remorse fill in...and concern for those not in my privileged shoes grows.