She watched her sister carefully
Climb onto the back of the scorpion.
Her knuckles were white as she held on tight
With eyes gleaming in both sorrow and hope.
This final journey would be so brief
After a long and hard lifetime of preparation.
And then, just as this spirit creature,
Carrying her sister, stepped over the line,
Her sister threw her something back in farewell.
And it floated in an arch of colors up through the air,
An arch of joy and freedom and life,
As medicine for all who still remained behind.
This is my journey,
— Nate Long “Owl”
Graphite and ink with digital manipulation