. . .
The light eludes us;
And the flame satisfies the bright
Where the sunlight turns to blood
And rush of the winds churns up a fright
The Dark Wind consumes them
And so the drum’s skins are warmed
Rush goes the thunder
As the medicine-bringer yawns
And spirals consume him in the smoke
And in the dust
Feathers all about him
Turning inside-out, the gust
Where the ravens eye and ravens song
Sees all and sings- to thrust!
A daggers end into the wound
To cleanse, to boil the corrupt
Four winds turn and the echo thrums,
a bass so deep into the heart
Where the energy transmutes in song
From beginnings end it harks
. . .