The Truth

My whole body pounded in time with the drum.
Arched, arms spread wide apart.
My eyes closed gently.
I felt the eagle on my chest and back,
And the cold hands that had freshly painted him there.

I had just learnt the truth.
Not through the pipe.
Not through the drink.
Not in a bite.

I was born a child of the old ones.
The truth came naturally.
But nothing like this.
Never before.

I bled.
I was told that my body was bleeding for the land.
The truth had hurt me more than I thought.

I looked for answers. There were none to be told. Just apologies.

I looked into her face. That had been pushed deep into the earth so many years before.
She smiled, stood high.
A warrior.
A women.

One of my deepest fears is that I will never be as strong as her.
I am a fool.
She tells me I am already in my own way.
She is too kind.
She is not angry, she does not hate.

She says I must not either.