Blacktail Butte

At first it rained

and then it poured.

Lightning bore up to the sky

and the gods applause

resounded off the rigid mountains.

We danced,

and sang

and cried.

In the tears of  Mother Earth

we watched life unfold.

Each drop pounded into

the hillside and hid the mountain tops.

Misty clouds of slate

raced north towards the heavens.

Far away were our minds,

distanced by love and poetry.

Our souls drank each rain drop

and we were healed.

For a brief moment in time,

we were real.

The Earth does that,

she never ceases to amaze,

and force us to open our minds

and see with eyes unclouded by

hate.