The prairie shakes, relaxed greens
and driftwood browns part as they pass
or falter under hoof. Herd traces
pond's path, fragrant flame from many
strides upwind pulls their noses aft-
No fear- no hunt in the west wind.
Invocations rise up, carry me,
kin to man, like a king
on his Royal Stallion. Their
hearts pulse for me,
chants embrace me
dum da-dum-dum dum dum
The hunt is on.
But I remain silent.
We flee and we fight
fear pushing, pulling, but only in
body as Spirit is soothed through
devotional dance and earned respect
for our sinew and meat
our bladder and hide
our bones and our liver
our hair and our dung.
Seduced not but soothed, our spirit
still smiles though bison-bone spear
points pierce buffalo hide.
The prairie shakes, the bison die.
dum da-dum-dum dum dum
Their hearts embrace me
Chants pulse for me.
- Mike Banys, 2006
1 comment:
and they can sprint at 30 miles an hour
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