So once, in a good time, their stomachs full,
The grown ones decided,
The new thought coming into their minds
That instead of One, Two (and even Three)
It
would be Bear, Wolf, Eagle,
Black Bear, Brown Hare, White Wolf, Black Eagle.
No end to names, but the end of confusion .
Now a young one grown to hear their name:
"You are Brown Wolf, you are Grey Buck,
You are White Doe, you are Thief Bird."
Who began
it-who?-
"Never go far from spear or axe,
Never go far alone."
And then, as if they had always known it,
"When beasts run together as one,
When they have gone down the valley,
You must go too."
The beasts have never come together,
Hunter and hunted, never run together down the valley.
Yet someone-who?-at some
time-when?–
said, You must go too .
You. You
must go too.
You was said by someone,
Someone not us .
Or if it was a dream
Why did that dream stay in our heads?
We dream so many dreams in the time of the long dark.
A Seam of White Crystals
The old one, this one,
Twitching in the cave corner,
His sleep teasing him like fleas,
Dreams and twitches.
Lies still.
