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About This Poem
Rites Of Passage Blood Moon
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I haste not
I fear not
in harmonious cries, I plead
where flight has called this mighty warrior
red paint upon my cheek
O cleansing smoke of wild grass high
of resin and sacred bead
a vision has taken this warrior's cry
anon, to capture a dream
As sunlight falls great shadows dance
through fire and breath redeemed
in pulsing rhythm a trek set forth
to fulfill a tribal need
I crawl through gates to reach the ledge
where spirit and smoke arise
and leap from the edge of nature's bounty
and gaze through Savanna's eyes
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