Cedar Mesa

Through a vast and empty echo, the ruins speak.

So stand remnants from another age, housed in red rock and crumbling faces, cliffs which bear the weight of time's slow pressure. Still, Earth's strong and steady back rises. And through each broken edifice, each husk underfoot, a past people speaks.

So ran the children, those taught the voice of water;

so flew Anasazi arrows
so too did deft fingers find sacred flora, sharp eyes marked tracks of fauna.
And as for their people...

A deep silence now permeates this place.

The land sighs and evening's cool blanket falls. Our Sun passing, all heat now leaking, my body weak and settling, and Mother Moon waiting in her celestial wing. My gazing eyes turn, seek and find,
repose in her brightly shining face. And I,


I wait.
I listen.


for such gentle moments all too swiftly pass.

Oh, silence,
grasp, ride home with me.