Behold the eagle, so proud so free,
I know he understands what we use to be,
I can see it in his eyes, in his flight,
my spirit soars when he takes to the sky,
and when I hear him call, my heart cries...

Because an eagle has a broken cry,
and to the Native people it will always be,
the eagles cry symbolizes to God and all,
what has become of me...

The eagles cry is broken,like all the hopes, 
all the dreams,our childrenís lives, 
our ancestors died,
humiliated beyond despair, 
no one's dignity was spared,
the eagles cry is broken,
like our lives....

Behold the eagle flying proud and free,
a wondrous sight for all to see,
until you hear the eagles cry,
can you hear the broken lives he sees...


It will be better this way, its the way it must be, 
donít let our children see, or hear or feel, 
what has become of our people in this sea...of deceit 

They will never know, that the Indian was born low, 
below the white mans feet, below the white mans scorn, 
they will fit where they must fit, for the hope of tomorrow, 
is in the white mans horn...of plenty. 

so we grew, my sisters and me, 
with fair hair and green eyes, 
we were a delight to see, 
we were better than them, 
we had more than them, 
we didnít stink like them, 
we werenít Indian...were we??? 

The disillusionment of the white mans' world, 
soon overtook our souls, 
and when the wind and storms of life blew, 
we were tossed aside and left alone. 

Some of us made it, some did not, 
some are still harvesting the rot...of their souls, 
some of us found where we needed to be, 
and after all was said and done, 
after all was over...I came home, 
to my Indian ways, my Indian ways, 
and all through this life, there is nothing in me, 
that can give me more hope or dignity, 
than my heritage of me... 

Melody Jackson

Juneau, AK 99801
United States