but there are things i cannot show you, divine, sacred, revealed out of themselves, upon those grassy slopes by wine dark waters.
one night not far from the dancing ground, in a little green tent upon the moonlit hill, i heard the song of two women humming like cicadas, drawing me up into a light, until coyote broke my will and drew me back to earth.
goodbye sisters, goodbye light, coyote laughing in the night, but i love him all the more for it.
