In the dance for his people, feet pounding twirling, left shoulder down, feathers jerking, he was the heartbeat of the earth,
head tilted to the left then the right, leaning in, spinning with blurred vision
he became red rocks, he became canyons of rivers raging, with ancient memories,
with power in his feathers, he remembered when they protected
the women and children, from dog faced soldiers hiding spears,
until the sun broke through the great trouble.
He was more than the dance,
he had blended
with the spirit of his people.
Poetry © Copyright 2019, ancient skies, image of Apache dancer from indiancountrytodaymedianetwork