WHEN I was a mother of a son
(my father died before he was one)
I traveled to places we had been together
(Always in summer, to avoid nasty weather)
To Yellowstone we went in a VW bus
With my son on my back
Pilgrimage we must
The Grand Canyon we hiked, when he was one,
With two kids from the Alps and from Quebec another
From Hopi's we went to lead the dance
A Great spiral of all the old ruins
All the old dances and all the old ways
Prayers began for a better Day.
At the pools in Yellowstone
I saw again as I once had seen
When I was only three and in my parents'company
We had gone to see the same pools unchanged
And a White Buffalo called BIG MEDICINE too!
But my memories were from above
Watching me and you and you
360 degrees! My memories betrayed The loss of the gift to BE.
But, in Seeing again, though straight ahead,
It ALL CAME BACK TO ME!