The waters flow to the mountain tops
As spindrift reaches for the sun,
And the winds gust in the ebony sea
Working the ocean’s heart into fury.
The mourning veils cover
The women’s heads as
Jackass cries confirm the dawn
And still
Hope smiles, unhurried, stubborn,
Forever persistent.
Oak leaves hang trembling,
Forlorn,
As the beaver cowers
In his lodge.
Three score and three days
Pass into memory
And the followers step from the
Vale of tears-
A new day begins.
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