.

In the darkness of the night,
When the sky walkers are sleeping.
When the water dwellers are still;
The mountain's roar
Is silenced by the weeping of a father.

His tears are lost in the sands of time,
The ashes of his forefathers,
The dusty footprints of his ancestors.
They are born and they die,
Phasing in and out of existence,
Their purpose of being is to fall.

The father rises from his grave of sorrow.
He begins to dance the counter-clockwise circle,
Chanting the words of the ancients.

The sky-walkers awaken to the sound of his chanting,
The sea-dwellers move to the sound of his feet,
He gives life to the dust as he moves through the circle.
The ancestors return,
The ancients are weeping
And he decides it is a good day to die.

© Jibrael

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