She Who Rides the Wind
I lived in a time that has passed on.
My people’s ways have come and gone.
I was Shaman, Dream-Catcher, dark-skinned.
I was known as ‘She Who Rides the Wind.’
A vision for my eyes displayed,
while on a road I chanced to stray.
Back to the past, the picture framed;
the gentle wind breathed my name.
About me stretched the untamed land.
Towards all directions out it spanned.
Yet still the words, they whooshed along,
“She Who Rides the Wind here belonged.”
I straightened up and glanced around.
I seemed alone; none other found.
I felt the present scene elapse.
This knowledge given, I did grasp.
I kept this gift sealed in my heart,
and searched then for the missing part.
When looking, nothing could I find
‘til I silenced my chatty mind.
One noon I simply took a rest,
with deep breaths, released my stress.
Then suddenly my world did change.
I wandered to that open range.
Dressed from head to foot in tan hides;
I was running in great strides,
my this-life husband (on his horse);
racing next to me on his course.
Divining sleep another night
put forth to me a wondrous sight.
A power animal came to me.
It helped to solve this mystery.
In seasons yore, I rode the clouds.
My steed and I, we two were proud.
A dream catcher held in my hand,
I caught the dreams from my sleeping land.
Shaman, Dream-Catcher, and dark-skinned,
formerly, ‘She Who Rides the Wind.’
Nowadays I live a different life;
but to him who rode, I am his wife.
Of yesteryear, I died that day.
How and why, I’m not to say.
I’ve returned to heal my past.
I’ve come to terms with life at last.
These trances showed that I stood tall,
as I heeded my sacred call.
Thru past moons I did wend,
for I was…‘She Who Rides the Wind.’