MEETING THE NATIVE SPIRIT
In a New Mexican desert
I met an Old Indian
His face was hide-tough
like the skin of a sunning lizard
And furrowed as the landscape
streaked by dusty gulches
I asked him
did he know the meaning to a simple prayer I'd heard:
"Hey ya na hey ney yo way!
Hey ya na hey ney yo way!"
He shook his head
a wordless negative
But, miracle or heartbreak,
a spot of water ran
in this parched land
--Harmonii
