Timeless Road

My soul drifts up to taut, stretched heights

The heat in this tent burns my skin

And so I call up to my God

I call His name and bid Him speak

To take the pain soaked into me

Release its steam, to heal, to cure

My dear Elijah meant to cure

The world's pain as dirt shot to heights

In pieces as shells burst near me

They marked the world in scorched black skin

Remember the last words we spoke?

As one, but out of touch with God

"He" is Wemistikoshiw's "God"

They call to Him for near-death cures

From morphine'd tongues they scream, they speak

They think they'll soar to greater heights

As bloody bullets pierce their skin

That pain swirls heavy, too, in me

Elijah, no longer like me

no longer prayed to Manitou

And now mine feels like boiled skin

I wash you out and try a cure

Your ahcahk flies at the tent's height

To this last form of you, I speak

You start to depart as I speak

I stoke the coals so air bur ns me

I'm sad I had to quell your heights

Please heal us, Niska, Manitou

In vain I ask Him for your cure

But you're still dead as your scalp skins

I'm free of thought, you're free of skin

You're free of words, I'm free to speak

I'm free to live, you're free from cure

You're free of you, I'm free, I'm me

I'm free in soul, you're free for God

You're free from earth, I'm free at heights

Your ahcahk tickles past my skin, past me, past Gitchi Manitou, and you, my friend, are free

Soaring like you did on morphine - that cure, loose tongue, my sorrow high, but finally I help you fly.

*Inspired by Joseph Boyden's Three Day Road