There are tough tough moments.
When we catch our ragged breath,
when we struggle to tread water.
When we are certain no one has ever felt this way before.
But it is not true, no it is not true.
Heya, we stand and find our strength.
We dance to the moon and the old ways.
We call out to the coyote and the beaver and the goose and the bear.
We find our footing in the fogged early morning, with the scurrilous west wind that passes us by with its whisper.
We find our new skin and our new tools in the earliest hours of dawn and the late moments in the total darkness of a moon gone far.
Heya we keep going and we listen to the wisdom of our old ones and we never ever cease our path.
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