By rush of brook and raucous caw of Crow
Elk stands listening,
listening for the snap of twig,
muffled grunt of Bear.
Lifetimes later I take its hide, hide of Elk and
scarred by claw,
stitching
shape of bear,
with sinew,
giving birth to Rattle.
In hallowed wood I shake the Rattle, sound of water, falling,
falling, look
into Elk's eyes and hear:
We must honor that which is most feared.
What we fear may offer our Salvation.
Bless this animal that its Death be not profaned, bereft of
higher purpose. May this blessing thus redeem its service.