Just outside the reservation
we scrambled from the car, racing
toward the caged bear and the old Indian
who sat stone-faced outside the gemstone shop.

His wrinkled brow so familiar,
drawing me in now all the more,
offeirng layered protection, shelter
from the weariness of twelve. I approached

With reverence, seeing whole worlds
in his eyes and untold stories.
A light flashed through his dark and storm-tossed eyes.
I slowed my step, all at once lost at sea

And found in the silent knowing.