When the eagle
And hawk
Fly as one
The legend
Of a warrior
Will come alive

He meets with his comrades
Amist the bonfire
He spoke
Of myths and legends
Warriors
Riding across the sky
Hunting buffalo
As they once had done
Across the grassy plains

War cries fill the air
As they chased down
Their meal
Praying to the great spirit
With each ****
As a way of giving thanks.

The fire flickered
Among their copper skin
As images danced
On the walls

He saw visions
Many things
That had passed
Or going to pass.
He had a wife
He had a son
He also lost both
To war or sickness.

He called forth
Many of us by name
As he made his way
To the sacred cave

His final vision quest
Led him deep within
There he drew
His final breath

Not before he prayed
To the great spirit
To guide him home
And to protect his decendants.

So now
Whenever I see
An eagle in the sky
And hear a hawks cry
I know he is watching
And waiting

The painted warrior
Now in the sky.