I.
i see a buffalo
wounded on a purple hill
against the setting sun
his body darkened
but the little hairs on his back
unbraided and ablaze
like little holy fires
to an unknown god

II.
the hills are red and purple
soft bruises beneath our hooves
ride on, brothers!
this is where your fathers lie
this is where your mothers cry
and we are on the hunt
find it before you fall
find it and join them all
She who blew the wind that blows you
He who formed the hills that know you
find out, brothers!
find the one who gives you life
and ride on
find the hill you wish to die on

III.
we are sitting cross-legged
around the dancing flame
some boys decide to copy it
and we laugh
they are our boys
they listen to our soft stories
and they let us braid their hair
but soon they will be the forest's
it will become their mother
then they will learn its hard stories
it will tangle their hair wild
and we will cry
for they will not be our boys anymore
they will bring partners to the dancing flame
who were once our girls
and they will run away
galloping like buffalo


IV.
you say we have been banished
too far from your fires to see the light
you say we do not know love
because we do not know a man
you say we need what you have
that we need it to survive death
but i tell you
the buffalo will keep us
though we ourselves will die
the buffalo will keep our children
it will die to give them life
and we will thank the herd
for such a noble sacrifice
so do not say we do not know
do not say
we will keep killing them
we would die for those buffalo


V.
i was searching on my dying hill
for what has kept me alive
on the buffalo plains at sundown
when a man from the other side of the stars
rode over slowly to end my hunt
he had no feathers in his hair
but the spirit winds danced
when he said
son you have known my love
i was always in you
without a name