I leave you to your ceremony of grieving 
Which is also of celebration 
Given when an honored humble one 
Leaves behind a trail of happiness 
In the dark of human tribulation. 
None of us is above the other 
In this story of forever. 
Though we follow that red road home, 
one behind another. 
There is a light breaking through the storm 
And it is buffalo hunting weather. 
There you can see your mother. 
She is busy as she was ever— 
She holds up a new jingle dress, for her youngest beloved daughter. 
And for her special son, a set of finely beaded gear. 
All for that welcome home dance, 
The most favorite of all— 
when everyone finds their way back together 
to dance, eat and celebrate. 
And tell story after story 
of how they fought and played 
in the story wheel 
and how no one 
was ever really lost at all.