GREAT GIFTS

Tassels floating in the wind
Feathers and beads working
Syncing sounds and motions
Eyes on the Mother of great gifts

She, turning to warm memories
Of dancing and spring rains, her
Footprints embedding on the
Softest clouds

Sun kissing obsidian skin,
Dry feet and weathered hands
Sparse provenders may be
Connecting deep within the root

Deep in a lush green, canopy
Of her distant calls and humid breath
Carving memories into stone
For remembrance.