The Ghost Dance Part Ii

2. Waiting for Wovoka For some time the old ones gazed that way, When there came a seer, A man named Wovoka. Who told them he had heard their voices calling in the night to him, That voices spoke to him of better times soon to come, That might be brought forth by a special way and a special dance That would bring to birth a stronger magic than that of Progress, That would dispel the evil changes. They listened and they took heart With the pitiful fervor of the desperate. He taught his new believers his way and his dance, And for a time, A fragile time in their trembling twilight The sacred songs and their meaning returned to the silent brown lands, And a joy was felt and shone in the proud faces of the faithful, And the long lines worn of care cracked and smoothed to smiles. The young know nothing of these things now, Nor do they care to know. Their lives are resigned to the long slow fade. But the old, huddling close to their quiet cares, And closer still to the quiet face of death in the shadows of their rooms, Feel the spirit of a former time lying still upon their hearts, A thing beyond the shallow grasp of youth. They sit stonily, unmoved in their fogs, remembering tales. And when no one looks, They turn their failing eyes back to the red mesas And recall the Dance of the Ghosts.