Argent moons myriad known, beneath an endless zenith sky
When hotter suns unaltered and stars ruled as aperture fever of a night
Around a fire this Naabeeho song begun, sung louder than a heaven's choir
As “Soaring Feather” was tuft mothered, from Navajo out of Chief Eagle Gray's desire
But, now less wild panes opaque of Dine', behind leather eyes am I
Brittle bone to withered dust, a desert sage that dries
And I plead one last dream before doors beyond forever
Gazing east, out cross fallen white of Navajo still November
I am blinded into vision winds, so quickened unto rapture
Swept along the swaying prairie grass, messenger of earth then after
The billowing, ghosts of buffalo left innocence roaming over head
And I rise in the morning mist, wings tall on Appaloosa's empathic wrath
Regrets ascending gallop to step upon plateau in reach of raven's tail plumose
Reborn as Yei to hunt the sky, shed the herds of swifting nimbus
A changeling caught within a current writhe, transcending into tempest, high
Quelling ages and ages of limitations, let the lightning bolts of redress fly
A warrior of the Holy Ones, my tabernacle on mother earth drifting dies
But, on painted horse run rising up, a brazen spirit storm comes alive
Free amidst the gale, thunderous beats in temporal instrumental
As clouds begin to blacken, past native spirits dance ceremonial into tornado
Hozoji drums beating round and round, whirlwind roar of nightly chants
I, Navajo dreamer stampeding across the azure plains of my once pure native land
Recompense only to scourge prejudice away and humble the most of evil men
And then stillness, a silent healing song as recendence, forgiveness to all is a welcome friend