Peacefully, with reverence I view the river
Quietly meandering toward this sand dune.
I sit with spirits who have come before me
Watching as the sun prepares for the moon.
The evening sky, hot with dancing fire colors,
Glows like the old spear maker’s ember pile.
Autumn oak leaves add more brilliant hues
To comfort those who pause here for a while.
Steamboats paddle and churn their way west
Coursing between gray dredge piled banks,
Carrying the life stores of many brave settlers
Who at day’s end stop to eat and give thanks.
Months will pass before they reach the plains.
Some will continue to Rocky Mountains high.
Pristine land where the Missouri River is born
Among jagged peaks rising to touch a big sky.
Tamarack candles radiate their golden light
On spruce trees adorned with cones and snow.
White smoke curls from a field stone chimney,
Herds of elk and deer play in valleys below.
This place where the setting sun finds refuge
And wild cutthroats swim sparkling streams.
Here my spirit has flown this Christmas Eve
Watching the spirits dancing in my dreams.