Rivers Renewed
In the middle of the battle I often consider the Dakota.
A desire, in the mountains, horses
strategy snorting, pawing the ground
feathers dangle, but their war paint is missing out on.
At the campfire I ask, “& ldquo; How did you make it through, when so
many have perished? & rdquo; A pipe is silently passed
from one to another, as I
breathe in, the responses dawn without words, smoke takes our prayers to heaven, as well as tranquility again stills the heart living within us. Poetry
and Photo & copy; Copyright 2017, ancient skies Sight initial message
