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SONNY STITT : Cherokee

As a dark tangle of branch and root

Rides an eddy, turning slowly,

A dark branch of the eddy

Rides the current, rolling off ;

A white frond of froth

Billows where the current turns ;

A white tangle of cloud

Inclines over the green ridge ;

A blush of vermillion touches the vale,

Moving over the grey fir trees ;

A blush of stars peers

At the straggling of the treeline ;

A roar of voices is in the falling water,

Where the rock opens its arms ;

A roar of burning is in the wide heaven,

As the gate open and all shine.

Branch and eddy and current and cloud,

Ridge and fir and star and falls,

Earth and heaven and their voices,

Move in counterpoint :

A gold thrush gathers all into its curt structure,

To throw upon the air in patterns.