A writing exercise stated: You're a cloud, a star, or the moon gazing down at earth. What do you see?
My answer came by way of having just read a transcript, a conversation with Finger, ~Lakota, from March 25, 1914.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
‘Shadow Dancer comes.’ Grandfather Sky whispered across the heavens.
Beyond the reach of Sun, a single star's fire dimmed in sorrow. Though NiHayo's core wept, it filled also
with Joy. 'Now whole shall I be.'
As Sun continued his never-ending journey round Grandmother Earth, NiHayo watched the great day star gradually
disappear behind emerald flatlands, mountainous ranges, and vast glistening waters. She watched Dusk edge across the
far horizon, shadowing the Plains, while Moon—chasing her beloved—rose to lend light to the darkness. Surrounded by the countless other stars, NiHayo waited, patiently,
for Shadow Dancer’s smoke to rise.
It is Grandfather Sky whom takes from each Star, its ghost. It
is gifted to every babe at the time of birth and returns to its star when the journey of each babe ends. Upon Shadow Dancer’s first breath of Life, not quite sixty rotations ago, Grandfather Sky gifted
him with NiHayo’s Presence. The Unseen, meant to remind, he is more than the years spent upon Mother Earth. That he
is connected, forever, to the Great Mystery.
In return—though on mere occasion—Shadow Dancer shared visions of his Walk when he looked, in wonder,
to the stars shining through the dark. When he unknowingly sought NiHayo’s light.
When Creator’s breath stirred and woke the slumbering clouds, NiHayo knew Wind searched for the beginning
of the Spirit Trail. Beyond the pines and seen only at night as a white trail crossing the sky, it leads all spirits home
to the Spirit World.
NiHayo grew anxious. It is believed, by some, that Stars care nothing for that which lives and grows below.
But NiHayo always welcomed Shadow Dancer’s memories and will miss what she would otherwise never have known.
As the last golden rays of the day's-end lingered behind the ancient mother’s crest, a pallid smoke rose
fast from a darkened valley. It spiraled over the surrounding foothills; up toward
the heat of that which is NiHayo. And once inside her gravity, the smoke dissipated
in the outer layer of the corona. Stellar winds roared and escaped her surface.
Moon continued to shine; bright across a calm night sky as the brilliant White Trail meandered and coursed softly
upon the Breath of Creation--- and was gone.
‘Returned is my Ghost.’ NiHayo surged.
