FLEET HUNTRESS

Stone city fox

Fleet of foot, keen of eye, Indian heritage

In your sweet French city

And the drums of your heart are loud

Stone city fox

Your drums are so loud they shake

The two hundred year old tenaments

With their crooked stairs and sagging floors

Your drums are so loud

The ground trembles wherever you pass

Stone city fox

And people catch their breath in wonder

And their eyes widen in wonder

So fast, so keen of eye, with drums,

With hurling feet you dance

With open hands and piercing eyes

First you pierce through

Then you pour love

Into the opening you have made

And leave them gasping for breath,

Wide-eyed and shaking...

Stone city fox

You must be the fleet huntress

Slipping amongst

The blind and forsaken

Of the whirlwinds

Taking here and giving there

Molding hope from heart

Mother of northern drums

Mother of fast-footed wanderers

Mother of the talking stick

Picture maker, story teller, actress,

In wild wilderness lake, in mud and reeds,

In stone church returning to the earth,

Even as all cities return to the earth,

You are the wilding heart

Of healing motherspirit

You are the clear spring of generations

Flowing to the sea