IN SUMMER

TODAY

Todaywe leave my mother's hoganmy mother's winter hogan.We leave the shelter of itsrounded walls.We leave its friendly center fire.We drive our sheep to the mountains.For the sheep,there is grass and shadeand water,flowing waterand water standing still,in the mountains.There is no wind.There is no sandup there.

Todaywe leave my mother's hoganmy mother's winter hogan.

Today

we leave my mother's hogan

my mother's winter hogan.

We leave the shelter of itsrounded walls.

We leave the shelter of its

rounded walls.

We leave its friendly center fire.

We drive our sheep to the mountains.

For the sheep,there is grass and shadeand water,flowing waterand water standing still,in the mountains.

For the sheep,

there is grass and shade

and water,

flowing water

and water standing still,

in the mountains.

There is no wind.

There is no sandup there.

There is no sand

up there.

My mother's possessionswe tie on the pack horses,her loom partsand her wool yarns,her cooking pots,her blanketand my blanketand the water jug,white sacks filled with food,cans of food,cornmeal and wheat flour,coffee and sugar.My mother's possessions,we tie them all on thepack horses.The packs must be steady.The ropes must be tight.The knots must be strong.I cannot pack the horses,I am too little,but I can bring the possessionsto my father and my uncle.I am big enough for that.

My mother's possessions

we tie on the pack horses,

her loom parts

and her wool yarns,

her cooking pots,

her blanket

and my blanket

and the water jug,

white sacks filled with food,

cans of food,

cornmeal and wheat flour,

coffee and sugar.

My mother's possessions,we tie them all on thepack horses.

My mother's possessions,

we tie them all on the

pack horses.

The packs must be steady.

The ropes must be tight.

The knots must be strong.

I cannot pack the horses,I am too little,but I can bring the possessionsto my father and my uncle.

I cannot pack the horses,

I am too little,

but I can bring the possessions

to my father and my uncle.

I am big enough for that.

GOODBYE TO MY HOGAN

My mother's hogan,I feel safewith your rounded wallsabout me.But now I must leave you.I must leave your fireand your door.The sheep need me.I must go with themto a place they know,but that is strange to me.I put my moccasins,my precious moccasins,by your fireplace, my hogan,so you will not be lonelywhile I am gone.

My mother's hogan,I feel safewith your rounded wallsabout me.

My mother's hogan,

I feel safe

with your rounded walls

about me.

But now I must leave you.I must leave your fireand your door.

But now I must leave you.

I must leave your fire

and your door.

The sheep need me.

I must go with themto a place they know,but that is strange to me.

I must go with them

to a place they know,

but that is strange to me.

I put my moccasins,my precious moccasins,by your fireplace, my hogan,so you will not be lonelywhile I am gone.

I put my moccasins,

my precious moccasins,

by your fireplace, my hogan,

so you will not be lonely

while I am gone.

GOODBYE

Landaround my mother's hoganand sheep trailand arroyoand waterhole,sleep in the sunthis summer.Rest wellfor my sheepwill not be hereto deepen the trail and arroyowith their little sharp feet.They will not be hereto eat the short grass,to drink the stored water.Sleep,rest well,and be ready for our return.

Landaround my mother's hoganand sheep trailand arroyoand waterhole,sleep in the sunthis summer.

Land

around my mother's hogan

and sheep trail

and arroyo

and waterhole,

sleep in the sun

this summer.

Rest wellfor my sheepwill not be hereto deepen the trail and arroyowith their little sharp feet.

Rest well

for my sheep

will not be here

to deepen the trail and arroyo

with their little sharp feet.

They will not be hereto eat the short grass,to drink the stored water.

They will not be here

to eat the short grass,

to drink the stored water.

Sleep,rest well,and be ready for our return.

Sleep,

rest well,

and be ready for our return.

My mother scatters the ashesfrom her cooking fire.She sweeps the hogan floorwith her rabbit-brush broom.My father lays the boughacross the doorto show that we have gone.The dogs bark.They run around the sheep corraltelling the sheepwe are ready to go.The young corn in the fieldhangs its tasseled heads.Young corn,my grandmother is stayingat home.She will take care of you.My father mounts his horse.He drives the pack horses before him.My uncle mounts his horse.They ride away together,singing,across the empty sand.

My mother scatters the ashesfrom her cooking fire.

My mother scatters the ashes

from her cooking fire.

She sweeps the hogan floorwith her rabbit-brush broom.

She sweeps the hogan floor

with her rabbit-brush broom.

My father lays the boughacross the doorto show that we have gone.

My father lays the bough

across the door

to show that we have gone.

The dogs bark.

They run around the sheep corraltelling the sheepwe are ready to go.

They run around the sheep corral

telling the sheep

we are ready to go.

The young corn in the fieldhangs its tasseled heads.

The young corn in the field

hangs its tasseled heads.

Young corn,my grandmother is stayingat home.

Young corn,

my grandmother is staying

at home.

She will take care of you.

My father mounts his horse.

He drives the pack horses before him.

My uncle mounts his horse.

They ride away together,singing,across the empty sand.

They ride away together,

singing,

across the empty sand.

Gray Cat,I am telling you goodbye.Today I go to the mountains.I take my sheep to summer range,but you, Gray Cat,you have no sheepso you must stay at home.Stay here with my grandmother,Gray Cat.She will feed you.Goodbye, Goodbye.

Gray Cat,I am telling you goodbye.

Gray Cat,

I am telling you goodbye.

Today I go to the mountains.

I take my sheep to summer range,but you, Gray Cat,you have no sheepso you must stay at home.

I take my sheep to summer range,

but you, Gray Cat,

you have no sheep

so you must stay at home.

Stay here with my grandmother,Gray Cat.

Stay here with my grandmother,

Gray Cat.

She will feed you.

Goodbye, Goodbye.

My mother lets down the barsof the sheep corral.The flock crowds around her.The goats look at me.I think they are saying,"We know where we are going."The little lambswalk close by their mothers.They are like me,they do not knowif they will like this placewhere we are going.My mother and I,we drive our sheepacross the sand.My grandmotherstands at her doorlooking after us.

My mother lets down the barsof the sheep corral.

My mother lets down the bars

of the sheep corral.

The flock crowds around her.

The goats look at me.

I think they are saying,"We know where we are going."

I think they are saying,

"We know where we are going."

The little lambswalk close by their mothers.

The little lambs

walk close by their mothers.

They are like me,they do not knowif they will like this placewhere we are going.

They are like me,

they do not know

if they will like this place

where we are going.

My mother and I,we drive our sheepacross the sand.

My mother and I,

we drive our sheep

across the sand.

My grandmotherstands at her doorlooking after us.

My grandmother

stands at her door

looking after us.

GOODBYE TO GRANDMOTHER

My grandmother,my little grandmother,now I am leaving you.Last year I was too smallto go to the mountains.I stayed with you,but this year I am big,I am almost tallso I must help drive the sheepto summer range.My grandmother,my little grandmother,do not be lonely.I will come back again.

My grandmother,my little grandmother,now I am leaving you.

My grandmother,

my little grandmother,

now I am leaving you.

Last year I was too smallto go to the mountains.

Last year I was too small

to go to the mountains.

I stayed with you,but this year I am big,I am almost tallso I must help drive the sheepto summer range.

I stayed with you,

but this year I am big,

I am almost tall

so I must help drive the sheep

to summer range.

My grandmother,my little grandmother,do not be lonely.

My grandmother,

my little grandmother,

do not be lonely.

I will come back again.

Riding,riding,riding on my horseto herd the sheepacross the yellow sand.Yellow sand is around me.Yellow sun is above me.I ride in the middleof a sand and sun filled world.Riding,riding,riding on my horseto herd the sheepacross the yellow sand.Sun heatand sheep smelland sand dustwrap around melike a blanketas I ride through the sandwith my sheep.

Riding,riding,riding on my horseto herd the sheepacross the yellow sand.

Riding,

riding,

riding on my horse

to herd the sheep

across the yellow sand.

Yellow sand is around me.

Yellow sun is above me.

I ride in the middleof a sand and sun filled world.

I ride in the middle

of a sand and sun filled world.

Riding,riding,riding on my horseto herd the sheepacross the yellow sand.

Riding,

riding,

riding on my horse

to herd the sheep

across the yellow sand.

Sun heatand sheep smelland sand dustwrap around melike a blanketas I ride through the sandwith my sheep.

Sun heat

and sheep smell

and sand dust

wrap around me

like a blanket

as I ride through the sand

with my sheep.

At noonwe reach the sagebrush flats.Gray-green sagebrush scents the air.Gray-green sagebrush softensthe yellows of the land.My mother makes a little fireno bigger than her coffee pot.Food is goodand rest is goodat noonin the sagebrush.

At noonwe reach the sagebrush flats.

At noon

we reach the sagebrush flats.

Gray-green sagebrush scents the air.

Gray-green sagebrush softensthe yellows of the land.

Gray-green sagebrush softens

the yellows of the land.

My mother makes a little fireno bigger than her coffee pot.

My mother makes a little fire

no bigger than her coffee pot.

Food is goodand rest is goodat noonin the sagebrush.

Food is good

and rest is good

at noon

in the sagebrush.

At night we make campin the juniper covered hills.My father is waiting for us there.The moon looks downon the restless sheepon the hobbled horses.The moon looks downon a shooting star.But I am too tiredto look at anything.I sleep.

At night we make campin the juniper covered hills.

At night we make camp

in the juniper covered hills.

My father is waiting for us there.

The moon looks downon the restless sheepon the hobbled horses.

The moon looks down

on the restless sheep

on the hobbled horses.

The moon looks downon a shooting star.

The moon looks down

on a shooting star.

But I am too tiredto look at anything.

But I am too tired

to look at anything.

I sleep.

Morning sunrise sees us climbingup and upon the mountain trail.There are pine treesstanding straight and tall.Brown pine needlesand green grasscover the ground.Shadows play with the sunlight.There is no yellow sand.The sheep hurry upward,climbing and pushingin the narrow trail.I ride after the sheep.My horse breathes fast.His feet stumblein the narrow trail.All day longthe sheep climb upward.They want to eatand I am hungry, too,but my mother says,"No."All day long we rideto herd the sheep.Night is almost with uswhen we reach the top.

Morning sunrise sees us climbingup and upon the mountain trail.

Morning sunrise sees us climbing

up and up

on the mountain trail.

There are pine treesstanding straight and tall.

There are pine trees

standing straight and tall.

Brown pine needlesand green grasscover the ground.

Brown pine needles

and green grass

cover the ground.

Shadows play with the sunlight.

There is no yellow sand.

The sheep hurry upward,climbing and pushingin the narrow trail.

The sheep hurry upward,

climbing and pushing

in the narrow trail.

I ride after the sheep.

My horse breathes fast.

His feet stumblein the narrow trail.

His feet stumble

in the narrow trail.

All day longthe sheep climb upward.

All day long

the sheep climb upward.

They want to eatand I am hungry, too,but my mother says,"No."

They want to eat

and I am hungry, too,

but my mother says,

"No."

All day long we rideto herd the sheep.

All day long we ride

to herd the sheep.

Night is almost with uswhen we reach the top.

Night is almost with us

when we reach the top.

SUMMER RANGE

Summer range in the mountainsis on a high mesa,a steep, high mesa,a flat-topped mesa,with tall growing pine trees,with short growing green grass,with little, winding riversand rain filled lakes.This is summer range for our sheep.

Summer range in the mountainsis on a high mesa,a steep, high mesa,a flat-topped mesa,with tall growing pine trees,with short growing green grass,with little, winding riversand rain filled lakes.

Summer range in the mountains

is on a high mesa,

a steep, high mesa,

a flat-topped mesa,

with tall growing pine trees,

with short growing green grass,

with little, winding rivers

and rain filled lakes.

This is summer range for our sheep.

Between the treesI see water standingin a bowl of green rushes.The water is quiet.It is stilland blueand cold.It is a lakewith land all around it.It is a lake.The sheep drinklong and steadily.They stand in the shallow waterat the edges of the lake.Their little pointed feetdig deep into the mudof the lake banks.I see colored fishbeneath the waterswimming in a rainbow line.I throw stones into the lake.The water pushes back in circlesto take the stones.The dogs swim far outinto the cold waters.They are thirsty and hot.I have never seen a lake before.Gentle rain pools I have seenand angry flood waters,but never beforea still, blue lake.It is beautiful.A lake is beautiful.

Between the treesI see water standingin a bowl of green rushes.

Between the trees

I see water standing

in a bowl of green rushes.

The water is quiet.

It is stilland blueand cold.

It is still

and blue

and cold.

It is a lakewith land all around it.

It is a lake

with land all around it.

It is a lake.

The sheep drinklong and steadily.

The sheep drink

long and steadily.

They stand in the shallow waterat the edges of the lake.

They stand in the shallow water

at the edges of the lake.

Their little pointed feetdig deep into the mudof the lake banks.

Their little pointed feet

dig deep into the mud

of the lake banks.

I see colored fishbeneath the waterswimming in a rainbow line.

I see colored fish

beneath the water

swimming in a rainbow line.

I throw stones into the lake.

The water pushes back in circlesto take the stones.

The water pushes back in circles

to take the stones.

The dogs swim far outinto the cold waters.

The dogs swim far out

into the cold waters.

They are thirsty and hot.

I have never seen a lake before.

Gentle rain pools I have seenand angry flood waters,but never beforea still, blue lake.

Gentle rain pools I have seen

and angry flood waters,

but never before

a still, blue lake.

It is beautiful.

A lake is beautiful.

Beneath the treesI see our summer shelter.My father and my unclehave made a shadeto shelter us from night rainsand from the coldof near-by snow peaks.They have made us a shadeof cottonwood boughsand juniper bark.It has the clean smellthat trees give.

Beneath the treesI see our summer shelter.

Beneath the trees

I see our summer shelter.

My father and my unclehave made a shadeto shelter us from night rainsand from the coldof near-by snow peaks.

My father and my uncle

have made a shade

to shelter us from night rains

and from the cold

of near-by snow peaks.

They have made us a shadeof cottonwood boughsand juniper bark.

They have made us a shade

of cottonwood boughs

and juniper bark.

It has the clean smellthat trees give.

It has the clean smell

that trees give.

My father and my unclemade a sheep corralwhile they were waitingfor the sheep and for usto come up the trail.They made the sheep corralof branches,a circle of branches,a circle of dark colored boughs.The sheep stay safein their corral tonightand I sleepbeneath the cottonwood shade.

My father and my unclemade a sheep corralwhile they were waitingfor the sheep and for usto come up the trail.

My father and my uncle

made a sheep corral

while they were waiting

for the sheep and for us

to come up the trail.

They made the sheep corralof branches,a circle of branches,a circle of dark colored boughs.

They made the sheep corral

of branches,

a circle of branches,

a circle of dark colored boughs.

The sheep stay safein their corral tonightand I sleepbeneath the cottonwood shade.

The sheep stay safe

in their corral tonight

and I sleep

beneath the cottonwood shade.

This morningwhen I opened my eyes fromsleeping I could not rememberwhat place this is.I thought I was inmy mother's winter hogan.Now I remember.This is summer camp.Tall trees stretch above me.In the darknessthey look blacker than the night.As I lie here,safe and warm beneathmy blanket,all around me turns to gray mist,all around me turns to silver.Darkness is gone,but it made no sound.It left no footprints.The world is still asleep.Through the pine treesday comes uplight comes up.

This morningwhen I opened my eyes fromsleeping I could not rememberwhat place this is.

This morning

when I opened my eyes from

sleeping I could not remember

what place this is.

I thought I was inmy mother's winter hogan.

I thought I was in

my mother's winter hogan.

Now I remember.

This is summer camp.

Tall trees stretch above me.

In the darknessthey look blacker than the night.

In the darkness

they look blacker than the night.

As I lie here,safe and warm beneathmy blanket,all around me turns to gray mist,all around me turns to silver.

As I lie here,

safe and warm beneath

my blanket,

all around me turns to gray mist,

all around me turns to silver.

Darkness is gone,but it made no sound.

Darkness is gone,

but it made no sound.

It left no footprints.

The world is still asleep.

Through the pine treesday comes uplight comes up.

Through the pine trees

day comes up

light comes up.

In the pine treesbird wings are stirring,bird songs are stirring.I hear them.I hear them.The grass beside my blanketis wet with night rain.Morning mist is on the leavesand in my hair.I put one toe out,one brown toe out.It is hard to get upwhen it is cold.Blue smoke from my mother's firecurls upward in a thin blue line.The sheep move inside their corral.I come out from under my blanket,from under my warm blanket.Like the other things around me,I come outto greet the day.

In the pine treesbird wings are stirring,bird songs are stirring.

In the pine trees

bird wings are stirring,

bird songs are stirring.

I hear them.

The grass beside my blanketis wet with night rain.

The grass beside my blanket

is wet with night rain.

Morning mist is on the leavesand in my hair.

Morning mist is on the leaves

and in my hair.

I put one toe out,one brown toe out.

I put one toe out,

one brown toe out.

It is hard to get upwhen it is cold.

It is hard to get up

when it is cold.

Blue smoke from my mother's firecurls upward in a thin blue line.

Blue smoke from my mother's fire

curls upward in a thin blue line.

The sheep move inside their corral.

I come out from under my blanket,from under my warm blanket.

I come out from under my blanket,

from under my warm blanket.

Like the other things around me,I come outto greet the day.

Like the other things around me,

I come out

to greet the day.

MORNING PRAYER

Silent and stillmy father standsbefore our summer shelter.He is thinking a prayerto the Holy Ones,asking themthis dayto keep our feeton the trail of Beauty.Filling the silenceof my father's prayerI hear the bluebird's song.

Silent and stillmy father standsbefore our summer shelter.

Silent and still

my father stands

before our summer shelter.

He is thinking a prayerto the Holy Ones,asking themthis dayto keep our feeton the trail of Beauty.

He is thinking a prayer

to the Holy Ones,

asking them

this day

to keep our feet

on the trail of Beauty.

Filling the silenceof my father's prayerI hear the bluebird's song.

Filling the silence

of my father's prayer

I hear the bluebird's song.

The poor sheep are cold.Their winter wool was cut offlast weekat shearing time.When early summer paintedflowers on the desertwith bunches of new grass,when snow water meltedand softened the hard earth,when Sun-Bearer smiledon the sheep and the people.Then my mother said,"Now,it is shearing time."My mother said that last week.Last week it was shearing time.Last weekat shearing time,my mother caught her sheep.One by one she caught them.She tied their feet togetherand with her shearsshe clipped their wool.

The poor sheep are cold.

Their winter wool was cut offlast weekat shearing time.

Their winter wool was cut off

last week

at shearing time.

When early summer paintedflowers on the desertwith bunches of new grass,when snow water meltedand softened the hard earth,when Sun-Bearer smiledon the sheep and the people.

When early summer painted

flowers on the desert

with bunches of new grass,

when snow water melted

and softened the hard earth,

when Sun-Bearer smiled

on the sheep and the people.

Then my mother said,"Now,it is shearing time."

Then my mother said,

"Now,

it is shearing time."

My mother said that last week.

Last week it was shearing time.

Last weekat shearing time,my mother caught her sheep.

Last week

at shearing time,

my mother caught her sheep.

One by one she caught them.

She tied their feet togetherand with her shearsshe clipped their wool.

She tied their feet together

and with her shears

she clipped their wool.

My mother's hands were sure.She cut the wool but oncefrom underneath.She did not fumble,cutting it here and thereinto short pieces.She cut the wool but once.Her hands were sure.My mother's hands were strong.She pulled the wool back.She folded it backto come off in one piece.My mother's hands were strong.The sheep lay stillbeneath her gentle fingers.Trusting my mother's hands,the sheep lay still.But nowthe poor sheep are cold.They stand in their corralthis morningand shiverand bleatand call loudlyfor the sunand for meto come.

My mother's hands were sure.

She cut the wool but oncefrom underneath.

She cut the wool but once

from underneath.

She did not fumble,cutting it here and thereinto short pieces.

She did not fumble,

cutting it here and there

into short pieces.

She cut the wool but once.

Her hands were sure.

My mother's hands were strong.

She pulled the wool back.

She folded it backto come off in one piece.

She folded it back

to come off in one piece.

My mother's hands were strong.

The sheep lay stillbeneath her gentle fingers.

The sheep lay still

beneath her gentle fingers.

Trusting my mother's hands,the sheep lay still.

Trusting my mother's hands,

the sheep lay still.

But nowthe poor sheep are cold.

But now

the poor sheep are cold.

They stand in their corralthis morningand shiverand bleatand call loudlyfor the sunand for meto come.

They stand in their corral

this morning

and shiver

and bleat

and call loudly

for the sun

and for me

to come.

Goats lead the sheep.They go first into everything.That is their way.They are not afraid.My uncle says in the English,"Goats are tough."Goats eat the grass too far down.They eat the trees too far up.That is their way.They do not care.My uncle says in the English,"Goats are tough."Goats, more than sheep,get into my mother's stew pot.Their meat is good,but it takes chewing,too much chewing.I say with my uncle,"Goats are tough."

Goats lead the sheep.

They go first into everything.

That is their way.

They are not afraid.

My uncle says in the English,"Goats are tough."

My uncle says in the English,

"Goats are tough."

Goats eat the grass too far down.

They eat the trees too far up.

That is their way.

They do not care.

My uncle says in the English,"Goats are tough."

My uncle says in the English,

"Goats are tough."

Goats, more than sheep,get into my mother's stew pot.

Goats, more than sheep,

get into my mother's stew pot.

Their meat is good,but it takes chewing,too much chewing.

Their meat is good,

but it takes chewing,

too much chewing.

I say with my uncle,"Goats are tough."

I say with my uncle,

"Goats are tough."

After we have eaten our morning food,my father and my uncleride down the steep trailto the Trading Post.My mother kneels beside her loombefore the cottonwood shade.I see the sun on my mother'sbrown hands.I see the sun on my mother'sblack hair.I give my mother a long look,then I turn my back.I walk to the sheep corral.My feet are brown.My feet are bare.The wet grass partsto make a wayto let me pass.I walk to the sheep corral.My skirts are long.My skirts are many.The flowers move backto make a wayto let me pass.I walk to the sheep corral.I let down the bars.The sheep go firstand I follow.The sheep walk slowlyfor they like to eatthe short sweet grassunder the trees.I walk slowlyfor I am lonely.Things here are strange.I am afraid.I know that my mother sitsbefore our shelterweaving a blanket at her loom.I know she is near me,but I cannot see her.I can see only tall treesand bits of sky.I am a child of the yellow sand.Mesa top and pine trees,green grass and colored flowersare strange to me.Unknown things live here.I am afraid.I creep to the edge of the mesawhile my sheep are feeding.Far, far below meis the world I know,the yellow worldof sand and windand sand.Far belowI see sheep walking,someone's sheep walking,in a dust cloudof their own making.Far belowI see a sand whirlmade by an angry windfighting the land.Far belowI see the heat haze,colored heat hazeblanketing the desert.I see these thingsthrough tearsfor they are the thingsI know.I am lonely without them.Here on top of the mesais a strange worldof shadows and waterand grass for the sheep.

After we have eaten our morning food,my father and my uncleride down the steep trailto the Trading Post.

After we have eaten our morning food,

my father and my uncle

ride down the steep trail

to the Trading Post.

My mother kneels beside her loombefore the cottonwood shade.

My mother kneels beside her loom

before the cottonwood shade.

I see the sun on my mother'sbrown hands.

I see the sun on my mother's

brown hands.

I see the sun on my mother'sblack hair.

I see the sun on my mother's

black hair.

I give my mother a long look,then I turn my back.

I give my mother a long look,

then I turn my back.

I walk to the sheep corral.

My feet are brown.

My feet are bare.

The wet grass partsto make a wayto let me pass.

The wet grass parts

to make a way

to let me pass.

I walk to the sheep corral.

My skirts are long.

My skirts are many.

The flowers move backto make a wayto let me pass.

The flowers move back

to make a way

to let me pass.

I walk to the sheep corral.

I let down the bars.

The sheep go firstand I follow.

The sheep go first

and I follow.

The sheep walk slowlyfor they like to eatthe short sweet grassunder the trees.

The sheep walk slowly

for they like to eat

the short sweet grass

under the trees.

I walk slowlyfor I am lonely.

I walk slowly

for I am lonely.

Things here are strange.

I am afraid.

I know that my mother sitsbefore our shelterweaving a blanket at her loom.

I know that my mother sits

before our shelter

weaving a blanket at her loom.

I know she is near me,but I cannot see her.

I know she is near me,

but I cannot see her.

I can see only tall treesand bits of sky.

I can see only tall trees

and bits of sky.

I am a child of the yellow sand.

Mesa top and pine trees,green grass and colored flowersare strange to me.

Mesa top and pine trees,

green grass and colored flowers

are strange to me.

Unknown things live here.

I am afraid.

I creep to the edge of the mesawhile my sheep are feeding.

I creep to the edge of the mesa

while my sheep are feeding.

Far, far below meis the world I know,the yellow worldof sand and windand sand.

Far, far below me

is the world I know,

the yellow world

of sand and wind

and sand.

Far belowI see sheep walking,someone's sheep walking,in a dust cloudof their own making.

Far below

I see sheep walking,

someone's sheep walking,

in a dust cloud

of their own making.

Far belowI see a sand whirlmade by an angry windfighting the land.

Far below

I see a sand whirl

made by an angry wind

fighting the land.

Far belowI see the heat haze,colored heat hazeblanketing the desert.

Far below

I see the heat haze,

colored heat haze

blanketing the desert.

I see these thingsthrough tearsfor they are the thingsI know.

I see these things

through tears

for they are the things

I know.

I am lonely without them.

Here on top of the mesais a strange worldof shadows and waterand grass for the sheep.

Here on top of the mesa

is a strange world

of shadows and water

and grass for the sheep.

Grass for the sheep,I had forgotten that.Grass for the sheepto give them life,to make them strong.Here on top of the mesathere is grass for our sheep.Surely the gods are goodwho live here.The sheep drink slowly.Shadows sleep.The quiet of the mesapushes against me.I can feel it, heavy, heavy,it pushes against me.Surely, the gods who live hereare known to me.The words of the Holy Songare known to me."On top of the mountainare found the gods."These are the wordsof the Holy Song.

Grass for the sheep,I had forgotten that.

Grass for the sheep,

I had forgotten that.

Grass for the sheepto give them life,to make them strong.

Grass for the sheep

to give them life,

to make them strong.

Here on top of the mesathere is grass for our sheep.

Here on top of the mesa

there is grass for our sheep.

Surely the gods are goodwho live here.

Surely the gods are good

who live here.

The sheep drink slowly.

Shadows sleep.

The quiet of the mesapushes against me.

The quiet of the mesa

pushes against me.

I can feel it, heavy, heavy,it pushes against me.

I can feel it, heavy, heavy,

it pushes against me.

Surely, the gods who live hereare known to me.

Surely, the gods who live here

are known to me.

The words of the Holy Songare known to me.

The words of the Holy Song

are known to me.

"On top of the mountainare found the gods."

"On top of the mountain

are found the gods."

These are the wordsof the Holy Song.

These are the words

of the Holy Song.

NOON ON THE MESA

Day grows longand bright with sunlight.The sheep eat their wayto the rain lakesunder the willows.Little rivers run through the tall grassand hide away in the rushes.I see a line of scattered cloudsacross the sky.Sun-Bearer restson his wayto the House of Turquoise Womanin the Western Waters.It is the middle-time of day.

Day grows longand bright with sunlight.

Day grows long

and bright with sunlight.

The sheep eat their wayto the rain lakesunder the willows.

The sheep eat their way

to the rain lakes

under the willows.

Little rivers run through the tall grassand hide away in the rushes.

Little rivers run through the tall grass

and hide away in the rushes.

I see a line of scattered cloudsacross the sky.

I see a line of scattered clouds

across the sky.

Sun-Bearer restson his wayto the House of Turquoise Womanin the Western Waters.

Sun-Bearer rests

on his way

to the House of Turquoise Woman

in the Western Waters.

It is the middle-time of day.

AFTERNOON

Lying on my backunder the willowsI can see an eagle flyingfar abovein great circlesagainst the blue.I feeland seeand listen,but I do not talk.There is no one to hear me.There is no one to play with me,only the lambs and the baby goatsand they like each otherbetter than me,I think.I am alone.

Lying on my backunder the willowsI can see an eagle flyingfar abovein great circlesagainst the blue.

Lying on my back

under the willows

I can see an eagle flying

far above

in great circles

against the blue.

I feeland seeand listen,but I do not talk.

I feel

and see

and listen,

but I do not talk.

There is no one to hear me.

There is no one to play with me,only the lambs and the baby goatsand they like each otherbetter than me,I think.

There is no one to play with me,

only the lambs and the baby goats

and they like each other

better than me,

I think.

I am alone.

But look!!There are butterflies,small white butterfliesabove the flower plantsof purple iris.I sit among the iris.I hear the whisperingof white wings flying.I think they like my velvet blouse.I think they like my long black hairbecause they come to meand to the purple iris,those small white butterflies.A little fat chipmunkin a brown striped blanketcomes close to me.He sits on his feet.He holds his hands out.He wrinkles his nose and looks at me.I give him bread.He holds it in his handsand with little quick bitesstores it awayin his fat brown cheeks.Funny little chipmunkin his brown striped blanketwith storerooms in his face!

But look!!

There are butterflies,small white butterfliesabove the flower plantsof purple iris.

There are butterflies,

small white butterflies

above the flower plants

of purple iris.

I sit among the iris.

I hear the whisperingof white wings flying.

I hear the whispering

of white wings flying.

I think they like my velvet blouse.

I think they like my long black hairbecause they come to meand to the purple iris,those small white butterflies.

I think they like my long black hair

because they come to me

and to the purple iris,

those small white butterflies.

A little fat chipmunkin a brown striped blanketcomes close to me.

A little fat chipmunk

in a brown striped blanket

comes close to me.

He sits on his feet.

He holds his hands out.

He wrinkles his nose and looks at me.

I give him bread.

He holds it in his handsand with little quick bitesstores it awayin his fat brown cheeks.

He holds it in his hands

and with little quick bites

stores it away

in his fat brown cheeks.

Funny little chipmunkin his brown striped blanketwith storerooms in his face!

Funny little chipmunk

in his brown striped blanket

with storerooms in his face!

Gray squirrels with bushy tailsrun up and down the trees.They chatter to me.They make me laugh.I pull my skirts around meand follow the squirrels.Now I know where they live.Now I know where I can findpiñon nuts this autumn.I feel the warmthof Sun-Bearer's shieldagainst my back.And on my faceI feel cool fingersof rain-cloud shadows.With my hands on the warm earthbeside me,almost,I can feel things growing.Why did I thinkI was alone?

Gray squirrels with bushy tailsrun up and down the trees.

Gray squirrels with bushy tails

run up and down the trees.

They chatter to me.

They make me laugh.

I pull my skirts around meand follow the squirrels.

I pull my skirts around me

and follow the squirrels.

Now I know where they live.

Now I know where I can findpiñon nuts this autumn.

Now I know where I can find

piñon nuts this autumn.

I feel the warmthof Sun-Bearer's shieldagainst my back.

I feel the warmth

of Sun-Bearer's shield

against my back.

And on my faceI feel cool fingersof rain-cloud shadows.

And on my face

I feel cool fingers

of rain-cloud shadows.

With my hands on the warm earthbeside me,almost,I can feel things growing.

With my hands on the warm earth

beside me,

almost,

I can feel things growing.

Why did I thinkI was alone?

Why did I think

I was alone?

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