Beyond sunrise, there is a song we follow
Beyond clouds traveling with rain humped
On their backs, lightning in their fists
Beyond the blue horizon where our ancestors
Appear bearing gifts, wrapped in blankets woven
With sun and strands of scarlet time.

Beyond the footpaths we walk every day
From sunrise to kitchen, to work, to garden, to play
To sunset, to dark, and back

Beyond where the baby sleeps, her breath
A light mist of happiness making
A fine rainbow of becoming knowledgeable around us

Beyond the children learning alphabets
And numbers, bent over their sticks and dolls
As they play war and family, grow human paths

Beyond the grandmothers and grandfathers
Their mothers and fathers, and in the marrow of their bones
To when that song was first sung we traveled on

Beyond sunset, can you hear it?
The shaking of shells, the drumming of feet, the singers
Singing, all of us us, at once?


In the song of beyond, how deep we are—