I'm silent and swift as the night.
You'll never know when I'll spring and fight.
I'll fight you in the canyons or on open ground.
While you'll look frantically all around.

I'll scream and howler to strike you with fear.
I'm the wolf, while you are the deer.
Tomahawk, bow or knife.
Are the tools I use to take your life.

The Apache

I’m ready to be Geronimo in this day.
To ride horse of intentions
and move under cloudless sky.

If thunder strikes, I with war paint infused with love
will gallop and conquer enemies of fear.

Birds in song whistle urging me on.
Flowers permeate nostrils
as winds hugs.

I am ready to take bow and shoot in poetic fields
and aim for many to fall at my poems.

Ready to transmute all judgements into heart
as I balance and wear Apache sash to celebrate self.

Ready willing and able
with breath deep to align with power
as warrior of love.

The day is young,
and I will ride Palomino steps gracefully.
Ride into the sunset blessed.