The sky fire burns the horizon,
and from Mako Sica 
earth-baked colors emerge — 
arid yellows and scoria blood reds 
warm buttes and pinnacles 
while canyon shadows deepen 
coal-blue to violet.

Midday, the pale earth 
void of hue
echoed my desolation.
Unending vistas 
unending musings
Will anything ever change?

Tonight, the painted land whispers:
Wowacintanka,
embrace your wowasake.

Lakota translations
Mako Sica — Bad Land
Wowacintanka — patience 
Wowasake — strength