Thursday, December 6, 2007

White Cloud And Running Bull


White Cloud still drifts
over the hill where
she walked as a girl,
the hill by the sparkling
blue, beautiful bay.
She gathered acorns
for family feasts,
drank water at the spring,
met her husband-to-be
reflected in the pool
below the pure bubbling water
on a softly sighing summer day.
The scent of sage
filled the air.
Under a canopy of dancing leaves,
Running Bull saw her too
in the clear pool,
and both watched,
as their reflections
kissed each other,
in the sky-reflecting water
in clear
morning light.
A shiver of joy ran
from one to the other
at the unexpected sight.
She glanced at him then
with a sweet, shy glance,
their kiss in the clear pool
a pledge.
Gently, he took her hand
without a word.
They both knew it was right.
Now Running Bull’s spirit,
and White Cloud’s too,
float, forever together,
on balmy summer days
over Indian Springs,
where their descendants
still drink the clear water.

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