Now is the time
for the singing.
Now is the time
for the songs.
We go,
we go,
on the Holy Trail of Song.
We go,
we go,
to hear the voices of the Gods.
They say,
on the path of the rainbow,
they say,
on the bridge of the lightening,
they say
on the trail of pollen
went the Elder Brother,
Reared-in-the-Mountains,
Young Man,
Chief.
We go to hear them say it.
Look! Look!
they say,
they say,
the Gods are walking.
The Gods are walking.
Follow the trail of song.
Hu-Hu-Hu-Hu.
Look! Look!
they say,
they say,
the Gods are dancing.
The Gods are dancing.
Follow the trail of song.
Hu-Hu-Hu-Hu.
Look! Look!
they say,
they say,
the Gods are singing.
The Gods are singing.
Follow the trail of song.
Hu-Hu-Hu-Hu.
It is finished.
The Sing is finished.
Dawn light is here.
Gray light is here.
Morning is here.
Day is here.
The sun comes again
to warm the world.
The Sing is finished.
It is finished.
Finished.
THE BETTING
The men go for horses
that have walked away
to find grass to eat.
The women put blankets
and food in the wagons.
My uncle tells my father
to wait awhile
because
my uncle says
he knows a man
who has a horse
that can win a race.
All the men stand around.
They talk together
about this horse.
My father gets the things
out of the wagon
that my mother has put in it.
He is going to bet them
on this horse
that my uncle says
can win a race.
The Trader comes.
He does not like the horse
my uncle knows.
He puts up a hundred dollars
against the horse.
All the Indian men
take off their concho belts
and rings and turquoise
and bowguards and blankets.
They throw them on the ground
to make a pile of things
as much as a hundred dollars.
They say,
"We will run
to that place
and back."
They mount their horses.
They line them up.
One man stands by
the pool of things
that are being bet
against the hundred dollars.
With another man
my father bets his bowguard
against a concho belt
on that horse
my uncle knows.
The men choose a flat place
to run the race.
THE RACE
The starter takes his hat off.
He lifts it up.
He lifts it up.
He holds it there.
He drops it.
They are off.
They are off.
They are running together.
No horse is in front.
No horse is behind.
They are together.
Together.
Running, running.
The black one that the Trader likes
stretches out,
running,
running,
gets in front,
running,
running.
Sand flies.
People shout.
The People shout.
Now comes the horse
my uncle knows.
There he is,
there he is,
in front,
in front,
away in front.
He has won the race.
The horse my uncle knows
has won the race.
The horses come back.
They are sweating.
Their sides go in and out
just like my blouse
goes in and out.
We are tired,
the horses and I are tired.
It takes some running
to win a race.
GOING HOME
The horse race is finished.
My father has a concho belt
and money in his pocket.
Now we go back
on the home trail.
Back to the hogan.
Back to the sheep.
Everything is finished.
We have listened
to the Holy Songs.
We have walked
on the Holy Trail.
It is finished.
Our hearts are good.
All around us is good.
We ride along
on the home trail.
It is finished.