It Was Winter

A Prose Poem

 It was winter when he left the reservation. No one sought a vision in the winter, but he did. Maybe vision wasn’t the right word, but he needed cleansing from the despair, from the alcohol. It was good to be in the mountains again. The air lifted his spirits, the rocks were his strength.

He had everything he needed, a good mule, a good rifle, his bow (that he had made years ago), and some buffalo blankets. His heart was still grieving though for his people, and he knew that would take time. His mother dying was the final reason to leave.

Days later he was in front of a cave, with a fire going, when the vision did come. He saw his people being reborn. In the vision it was spring, and everything was blooming. They were strong again and happy. And he was in Canada, where his people were considered humans. He had a wife again, and she was expecting a child. She was happy, and free, instead of sick and dying.

He must take this vision back to his people, he thought, to encourage them. The end of all things was not yet.

They would all live again.

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

Image a scout from the Crow Nation, taken in 1908, source: Pinterest

Peace and blessings to everyone.

“If you love nature, you will love people.”