On The Edge

Yes, I lived on the edge of Mother Earth Then, but ran my toes through her green hair. Still, my heart lives within her heart and beats With a similar yet quicker music.

And I too, remember that spring of laughter. The music of love that fell like water from a Cliff, spread like a child's perfect hoop. My heart a gold and black polka dotted skirt Flared over toes in spiked heels that brushed That precarious edge.

Remember that hot, humid afternoon that honored Elders at Ghost Hawk Park, and the Thunders drummed Us home, sang and danced against the sky, let down Skirts of water while I danced drenched in warm rain And laughter? You watched from the safety of the Dry worried house.

I lived on the edge, then. Now, I walk quiet On moccasined feet, feed birds, not lions. Sometimes, I lift my voice in song, borrow words From the young one, long ago, who stepped back Over the edge. "There was a man I loved so dearly I will see my man again." How we laughed When the buck sprang from woods below.

— Charlene Blue Horse

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