One man has left the earth;
his wolf-dog went before him
scouting the way
on the old journey
into the timeless,
leaving behind
his music,
his trickster,
the joy he fired
from the grief
of his family
to forge a life
on the high mesa,
playing his flute
to The Four Directions,
to the animals
and desert plants,
playing to the sun rising
and to his greater spirit
lifted now into the invisible
with the sound of his laughter,
the echo of his music
and the mask he carved
on his earth walk
as a warrior and a friend.

— Don Hynes