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The Dance of Only-One and Dead Man
This night in the cold rain
Around us, I call you down
From your tall burial post
Where you have lain dreaming
The long dream of Cedar
Like that same seedling
Rooted deep in your dust.
I wrap your burial mat
As a dancing skirt around you.
Now we must dance, Dead Man.
The People are watching
In their lodges, their eyes closed,
Their feet remembering.
My rattle tells you to rise.
Like Nightwind, I blow across
The mouths of soft-weed whistles.
Who am I? says Dead Man.
I say, You are no one.
Dead Man says, I know you.
Why must I dance again
To the Singing of Only-One?
I say, The People must see you,
Even He-Chews-the-Days
Who eats only the air,
Even Under-the-Fire-Woman
Who tells secrets to spirits,
Even Moss, even Stone must see you.
Now you are dancing, Dead Man.
I have painted your breastbone
With the half-eaten Moon
Left to grow by Raven.
I have filled your skull
With my song made from seawater.
We shall dance together
Till the bloody hands of Morning
Tear Sky Blanket open.
David Wagoner