"It rained all the way to Bear Butte,
a sacred mountain in the Black Hills
of South Dakota
where I have visited for many years.
The clouds were so thick,
I could not see the top or summit."
"As I approached, the clouds grew thicker.
I was becoming sadly disappointed that
the summit
was not visible . . .
but didn't realize that the surprise
of my life was also just ahead."
"The closer I came, the thicker the clouds on top . . .
Hiding feelings of disappointment,
I was beginning to accept that the only thing
really
important was just to be there,
and without expectations."
"Much closer now, and still nothing visible on top . . ."
"Parking the car,
I began the long trek up the side of
the sacred mountain:
Mato Paha (Bear Butte) . . ."
"The top half was not at all visible, and growing dimmer..."
"The rain was also heavy, but higher I climbed . . ."
"Who cared if it was raining!
I had been a few years since
my last visit to Bear Butte.
It was like coming home to
visit your Mother . . ."
"Lifting my arms and waving for the clouds to dispense,
I began to chant an Indian prayer ~
My prayer was heard, for the rain stopped completely,
and the summit was becoming visible . . ."
"By the time I had gotten to one of my favorite places,
the rain was completely gone,
and the clouds lifted to
reveal Her mighty summit ~
I was recognized and
welcomed into the comfort of Her arms once again . . ."
"Within a matter of seconds,
I was gazing into the cleared summit
with stern yet happy eyes,
barely believing what I was
seeing ~
I was blessed and rewarded with a clear view."
"Without notice of time or hurry,
taking my time, I said my silent prayers,
and hung some tobacco offering on the tree
from my last visit..."
"I descended once again to my car,
and chanced to look back.
The summit had completely covered over again,
and once again the rains started after I got into the car.
Another Bear Butte "coincidence"?
I'll leave it for you to be the judge,
for I know the real truth. . .
