Where the Waters Fall

Where the waters fall
Soon the light will rise,
The spirit will recall
The vision in its eyes.

As the teardrops flow,
Disperse the dense dark cloud,
A mist drinks in the glow
Of all which light’s endowed.

The human eye goes dry,
Strains to see the length
And curve of hues that try
The eyesight’s finite strength.

The spirit sees with all
The shades of unseen sight
Where the waters fall,
The rainbow of all light.

Over the rocky cliff the waters fall. The roar of the rushing water echoes through the hollow canyon. It is in this moment a very private one for the Indian woman where the waters fall once again, descending in quiet teardrops down her cheek. Presumably sequestered from outside sights and sounds, she sees and hears inwardly – her ceremonial dance a mere vessel of transport through these rocky waters. One can only guess the source of her loss – a loved one? land? identity? No doubt, the unbeknownst background presence of the colonial soldier speaks volumes. But this is only half the story. This soldier has come down from his mighty white horse. His gaze emanates another inward hurt and a strong sense of compassion; even the horse seemingly longs to understand the Indian woman’s plight. While human nature wants to dominate, there is no plan of conquest in this scene. A higher truth speaks. As the Indian woman and Englishman relinquish their earthly struggles and desires, as the teardrops flow and “where the waters fall,” the spirit truly does see with higher vision – a vision which encompasses the values of all colors of light and reaches for that rainbow of all races of humanity.