It dreamed of a time

When the Wind blew its pure breath

Through old forests

Rippling across the back of a million buffalo

And under the wings

Of birds whose songs are now silent

The River dreamed it was a time

When men walked

To the beat of the Earth’s heart

When he used to sit and listen

To the stories of the Cicada

When mankind would cleanse their minds

And renew their spirits

In the River’s calm waters

The River dreamed

That humankind once again sought wisdom

From the eagle, beaver and crow

When they would look

Up at the everlasting sky

Into the soul of night

And feel the hand of God upon their hearts.

Now their hands

Drip black with the Earth’s tears

Their lips dance with forgetfulness

And have eyes which trample

The stomach of truth

It is a foul stench

That cannot be washed

Or dreamed away

Copyright ©2009 Anthony Hall