Thunder rumbled in the distance
he knelt, face down
the echoes of great herds sounded.

A quiver slung over his back
his bow at the ready
the Warriors behind, silent.

A whisper of wind
through grassy plains
a promise of the bounteous feast.

Children laughing, running, playing
are the first to see the hunters return
women readying the Great Fire.

The smell of smoke
drifts on heavy winds
bringing hope of nurturing rains.

A shadow passes over
the feasting falls silent
an eagle’s cry resounding.

The first drop falls
upon weathered faces
joyous cries harmonize.