From the skirt of night
the rousing sun
gleams crimson hued on snow-capped
above the eagle's arabesques of flight
and wheeling hawk's swift cloud skate.
bends to the urging of the nascent breeze
(sweet scent of prairie flower and stately pine).
The ruffed grouse drumming in the morning still,
the first sweet song of lark,
the mystic drum
that throbs with hoofbeats of the buffalo herd
all sing of love and life and reverence
for thee, O Mother Earth,
and for thy spawn--
sweet, peaceful plenitude.
Lift then our hearts
to where your sheltering sky
--immense, unmeasured canopy sublime--
will welcome us,
as children, having strayed too far,
receive a Mother's love
12 jan 97