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Reincarnated
from an ancient brother
of the earth and sky,
he comes each night
to the foot of my bed.
His presence is pietistic
in the hour of the wolf,
tucked small, eyes clenched
in spectral consultation.
Medicine wisdom
perceives the ache
in my bones--he prescribes,
then lightly creeps
to the area in question
and lies down on the pain.
His chant is like the vibration
of a distant fire dance
drawing out the evil,
expecting no more return
than to share the heat
of the living.
~ Harry Thomas Brashear
All Rights Reserved.