When the World Was Young

 

In the lifetime before the lifetime before this one,

and again in the lifetime before that,

I danced under the blue sky in the sundance,

when I and the world were young.

The beat of the drum sang in my blood,

and my feet moved in joy,

and I danced

and I danced

as if it would last forever,

when I and the world were young.

The Old Ones smiled on me

with kind eyes, but with sadness too,

for their dreams foresaw suffering

for the people.

Over in the meadow, grey wolves flitted

in and out among the Standing People,

paws prancing high,

and the backs of the buffalo

carpeted the earth

in the days

when I and the world were young.

And now I live again

in an alien skin,

in a world grown cold.

The buffalo are gone and all that moves

is made of metal.

And I am an Old One

with kind, sad eyes,

watching the young dance

in a world gone mad,

and the ancient spirits are crying still,

remembering the days of

dancing under the sun

when they and I

and the world were young.

From 2015, shared with earthweal's open link. I wrote it after attending a Christmas concert at a First Nations school. The young lad above was one of many students, dancing for the animals in a circular dance called Everything Is One. So beautiful.