We are as scattered as smoke
the shadows of a willow
The quietness of a rock
the waves inside a billow
The guard of the silence
in which words remain asleep
The summit of a mountain
of which there is no peak
The nudgings of the moon
which lure the tides awake
The secret of a volcano
which makes its passion quake
The aura of hidden instruments
from which continuous music plays
The moments inside the hours
which fill gentle days
The flames of the fires
which burn yet remain unsatisfied
The colors of the rainbows
which dance to become untied
And we wait
As the CHEROKEE DAWN
awaits the day of her people's return
in quiet anticipation
of so strong a light it burns