The warrior sits upon his paint, on top of flat mountain
The strong desert wind dries the tears before they fall
Attention being on what his friend has seen
For the future has now revealed itself
Through the eyes of an eagle.
Great sadness overwhelms the brave as he turns and rides
Through the pass that will lead him home.
The elders will not believe me and will think I have eaten crazy weed
So I will hide behind my silence
Seeing a white man riding on the other side of the big river at the end of the world
Is too big of a story to be told
I can not see that far, they will say
They will say it's a 3 day ride
And you have only been away, not even a day
As he slowly rides through pass he welcomes the shade
Of the cool canyon walls and falls into the moment
He envisions his wife chewing on the coyote skin
And knows the skin is gift she has softened for him.
He regains his smile, his heels dig into the flanks of his paint
Into a run they go, as his friend the eagle screeches with excitement, high in the sky
Home to where love is, the lush green valley, of the morning sun.
He knows not one moment can be wasted,
Every moment in his silence, will be cherished
Until his friend flies no more.
Ken 6/14/04