Beyond the Waterfalls
Behind the waterfalls
is where they go to die.
To dip their ivory hearts
in water gems and rainbow mist
for one final 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 gray pillars of her life
trunk snapping the wind.
Hymns of the ancients, tickling veined ears.
Living forever, beyond the waterfalls.
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