That was struggle enough; however, there was another plane of consciousness on which I was fighting every night that I lay down to rest. As I slid into the borderlands between waking and sleeping, negative beings attempted to pull me into their darkness. I learned to escape them by using words to make a ladder to bring me back.

Under our ribs
our hearts are bloody stars. Shine on
shine on, and horses in their galloping flight
strike the curve of ribs.

Praise the rain; the seagull dive
The curl of plant, the raven talk — Praise the hurt, the house slack
The stand of trees, the dignity — Praise the dark, the moon cradle
The sky fall, the bear sleep — Praise the mist, the warrior name
The earth eclipse, the fired leap — Praise the backwards, upward sky
The baby cry, the spirit food — Praise canoe, the fish rush
The hole for frog, the upside-down — Praise the day, the cloud cup
The mind flat, forget it all — Praise crazy. Praise sad.
Praise the path on which we're led.
Praise the roads on earth and water.
Praise the eater and the eaten.
Praise beginnings; praise the end.
Praise the song and praise the singer.

Praise the rain; it brings more rain.
Praise the rain; it brings more rain.