Black Hills

Paha Sapa

Hoop of the world,

where all four directions are gathered.

And I wait.

Wave smoke-signal doves

skyward across Turtle’s back.

Quiet breath.

wait,

wait.

Paha Sapa

And while night gathers

itself, with brilliant plumes,

settles down beside me,

I am content.

Put away waiting. Put

away fire, weave both

into vision-dreams.

Paha Sapa

Hoop of the world,

where all four directions are one.

5 thoughts on “Black Hills

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