Spirit of the Great Plains

The fire speaks when the night is still, smoke carries words up to the stars. The ancient wind knows the names of the ancestors, it carries them through the ages. My feet touch the earth, I feel her breath beneath me. The spirit of the plains watches in silence, it knows who I am and where I walk from here. I hear a voice calling me through the wind, through the night, through dreams. I am dust, I am the blood of this land, and I will return here again like a shadow. I hear a voice guiding me through fire and through rain. The spirit of my ancestors walks beside me, I am not alone among the stars. An eagle circles high above me, it sees the traces of ancient days. The river remembers every step that a human once left within it. My heart beats like a drum to the rhythm of an old, sacred song. The fire fades, but the spirit remains in the earth, in the wind, in my blood. I hear a voice calling me through the wind, through the night, through dreams. I am dust, I am the blood of this land, and I will return here again like a shadow. I hear a voice guiding me through fire and through rain. The spirit of my ancestors walks beside me, I am not alone among the stars. When I close my eyes, I see the fire. When I fall silent, I hear the voice of the earth. I am not alone on this path, for the spirit guides every step. I hear a voice calling me through the wind, through the night, through dreams. I am dust, I am the blood of this land, and I will return here again like a shadow. I hear a voice guiding me through fire and through rain. The spirit of my ancestors walks beside me, I am not alone among the stars.