Neh Tsoi

At the age of a hundred and ten
Chan Kin Viejo, Old Little Sun
Elder Prophet asked his question,
the Mayan night breathing deep around
the small Yucatan town of Naha
as we sat by his fire.

Young ones, what will you dream this night?

Neh tsoi, he said, neh tsoi, it is good.
Which moved first, your feet or the dance?
And what is it that your heartbeat answers?
The throb of the tide? The drum of thunder?

Neh tsoi, neh tsoi, he said again.
Can your metal watch tell us the time
as well as the ancient cycles of Sun,
stone calendars sown by the seasons?

Young ones, what will you dream this night?

Credit

Copyright © 2023 by Joseph Bruchac. This poem appeared in Platte Valley ReviewUsed with permission of the author.