Sometimes I feel the aura of Susitna,
who is better known as the Sleeping Lady of the north.
She shares my love of berries, and of baskets,
and, according to folklore, she also knew how to sew.
When we each said good-bye to our true loves,
we were both so hopeful and brave,
for we thought that the wait would be shorter,
and with childlike determination, we yearned to stay alert and awake.
Time moved so slowly without change that we both grew weary and we reclined,
in the same silhouette, two ladies sleeping, each of us gracefully on our side,
with our long hair cascading down around us in soft silky waves,
resting so sweetly that it kept the tears from our eyes.
Though the Heavens knew our true loves might never return,
they let us sleep peacefully and dream every night with that hope,
and they soothed our sadness with the aurora and stellar scenery,
first, with quilted fields of wildflowers, then with blankets of purest snow.
The legend says Susitna will not wake to see her true love Nekalta again,
until the time that war has ended and peace has traveled across the land.
I hope to hold you again in my arms much sooner than Susitna and Nekalta must wait,
for the day that we have lasting peace on this earth is still a dream that is just too far away.