SUNDANCE

Tiny little specks gather meekly in a circle, way down below the radiance of the unrelenting stare of the sundance…A bloody inglorious ritual or so has come many a rumors’ beginning of the infidels persistence, it began before time. Every year at the zenith of the sun, the free and common beings will pray in this manner. From those who began long ago, when the circle of life was whole still, when every moments’ breath was spent in the pursuit of the suns’ path. Doing what they can for their peoples’ lives, just for another’ good health and happiness. Freely, they give of themselves, this painful suffering offered in humbleness, dancing prayers constant movement-one day, two days, three days-four days without any substance, around and around in a circle, they do go, ancient songs with sacred words surrounded with eagle bone whistles resound calling out as eagles respond circling high above, dancing prayers without any water, the dehydration of each body cell, yells for life. Resisting this denial, just seeking guidance from what we do not see, a natural blessing from the perpetual motion, that is taken for granted, of that we can only feel. Feathers flying down on the ground, all colors, all movement, all directions consulted, all things come together in the interconnects of the mystery united in the winds blowing through withering bodies and clouds. Slowly, pass by above the tiny little specks. Just one more dance, pray, just one more year, dance, pray, just one more hour, dance, pray, just one more step, dance, pray, dawn to dusk, day after day, begins the timeless appreciation of the frailness of human strength gives the true realization of length of just four days, spent following the sun, dance, dance, pray, till prayers are concluded and then pray some more.

All are dancing prayers, crying out for life placing their prayers up on the sun for our woeful requests, so, people may live and grow, so, all living things and beings will be happy, for just one more year, dance, dance, pray, so the God of all will pity us all.

As what began must end, down here, starts just one more year of preparations for the next years’ ceremony of insignificant dancers, dancing and praying that is a way of life. To dance the sundance, to dance, to pray, some more…tiny little specks gather meekly in a circle, way down below the radiance of the unrelenting stare of the sundance…