I stood on the mountain’s ledge
and watched the rainbow’s arc
Crossing the thirsty valley,
traversing the stormy dark,
When, sudden, before my eyes,
it twisted within the air
Spiraling on its own…
a cosmoglyphic flare…
And became the mystic Rainbow
that I was meant to ride
With hawks to guide my passage
and lightning bolts inside:
Sand-painting on the Heavens
– a template of Great Spirit—
Let all who see, now understand,
and all who ask, now hear it.
A rustling in the brush
A whispering of voices
Ancient Ones, Council Ones
The kind that reach out
from Sacred sandpaintings...
Soft, gravelly murmurings
on the edge of the Path...
Hands touching my shoulders
Words my heart can hear:
"Step up to the Sacred Highway
--the Spirit Path--
--the Heyokah Rainbow--
Come with us...
It is time."
I see the Rainbow Spirit
whene'er I close my eyes:
swirling, drawing, beckoning,
speaking in disguise:
"I can draw your Circle;
I can touch the Sand,
and help you paint the Prophecy
upon the Sacred Land."
Rainbow-Spirit comes
weaving from my hands
to touch Earthmother's Hoop
with mystic Painted Sands,
as if Great Spirit's healing
were channeled through my Ray,
and the Medicine so drawn
preserved the Sacred Way.