Beyond the Waterfalls

Behind the waterfalls is where they go to die. To dip their ivory hearts in water gems and rainbow mist one last time.... Remembering,once upon an ancient path when great gray trumpets walked a line from waterhole to waterhole. Nothing to fear but the season of dry. Raising young like the sun lifts the sky so strong- so lovingly. Her last thought, when she was a sprite, light-footed bright, amber eyed. Playing tag amidst the pillars of her life trunk snapping the wind. Hymns of the ancients, tickling veined ears. living forever, beyond the waterfalls.