Vision Quest

Cowboy Poetry

Rocky Ledge,

high above a vast canyon,

bronzed man sits,

legs folded, eyes closed,

arms outstretched and waiting.

He entered the dream then,

awake, alert,

his surroundings fell away

and he spiraled downward,

yet into the sky.

His arms became wings,


his mouth, a beak

as words spilled out

in eagle's tongue.

Soaring high above the lands

of his ancestors,

he watched their slow


saw the mighty tatonka defeated,

witnessed the slaughter

of entire races, entire tribes.

Screaming a caw of utter anguish,

he swooped low

to gather his people

close into his wings.

Flying away, off to nowhere,

he traveled the skies,

in search of a sanctuary,

a place to set down

and begin anew.

He could find no parcel of land

untouched by those that had come,

so he flew onward into forever,

always protecting those

he tucked into his wings.

Sweat glistened on his form,

his breathing came in ragged gasps

and a sob escaped his lips.

The vision cleared

as time returned him once again

to the rocky ledge,

tears in his eyes

and an eagle feather

in his palm.

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