Thoughts like fog waves crashing,
In a crown of clouds on the mountains brow,
Thunder cracks in powerful displays,
Letting the traveler know,
They were never in control.
But ever on they traveled and trudged,
Through forest and foothill,
Determined and stone hearted,
To get the help they needed from the gods,
They worshipped and loved.
Onward they carried the casket,
Of the village elder since passed on,
To the edge of the oceans and knowledge,
Outward they pressed his body out,
On a boat they'd fashioned on shore.
A brave young lad of the tribe,
Lit an arrow covered in oil afire,
Screaming his fathers name he loosed the arrow,
Aflame the boat with the elder was lit.
Fire exploded outward in licking flames,
Dance and song ensued with the travelers,
A soul flickered out among the embers,
The travelers sipping on their mead and looking,
Looking to the skies for guidance.
Held their hands to their chest,
And chanted their prayers,
That night, what they saw,
They will never forget.