There is a fire burning there before us. It has been there all along but its warmth has waxed and waned with the temporal wind and disparate rains. It was there before we saw it rise from the coals. The embers were made by us, by them, by those who came before and they will be maintained by those who come after. There were nights we could not feel its heat. It was there then, though. Do not forget that fire. Do not lose it now. Now that he has come to guide use through that final night.
He rode upon the painted mustang.