Before sunrise Auta put her moccasins on wore her silver necklace packed a small bag and got on her black horse, Thunder. Thunder, the carrier of dreams Thunder, always galloping to no where. No where predestined, known, or determined. Where do you ride to Auta? Is it the morning dew or your tears that make your beautiful eyes misty and filled with unwritten poems? When are you stopping Auta? Where? She ties Thunder to an apple tree and walks toward the lake. Sitting on a rock she opens her bag: a piece of bread a bottle of fresh water dried flowers a book of poems and a mirror. A sip of water, a piece of bread and the dry flowers that go with the current of the lake. making magical patterns. The old book of poetry opens and Auta reads, "There is no destiny, make peace with that and rest in love. You are never late nor behind so, just be and rest in love." Auta looks in the mirror Her silver necklace says, your soul is a warrior and love is your shield. She gasps as she realizes her own strength, and her own beauty. The sun has risen and Auta is not late for anything.
Hydeh Aubon (9/1/06)
