Morning Star
Lying among the tall grassI saw her gathering firewood
Mist rising from Mother Earth
Vanishing into the sunlight
Moring Srar so lovely
Flowers growing by her feet
Butterfly on her shoulder
Wind caressing her black hair
I marvel at her beauty
Her eyes met mine
The mountains became silent
Our hearts beating as one
Reaching out we touched
The Wind Spirit came
Carried us swiftly upwards
Meeting in the open sky
Were we dreaming?
Dreams hold great power
Tales of the Great Spirits
Told by the Old Ones
I was looking upward
Morning Star was smiling
She took me by my hand,
"Come sit with me by my fire."
Dan Gibson, 1999