Wherever under the sky I walk
there’s something of you in the earth,
stone, sage, air, living river
and high as the hawk can fly
vapor, mist, rain you are,
sunlight moons give back to me.
Be sure, all I touch holds you.
Memories dream in the land
where the ancestor-spirits breathe
their souls imprinted on red rock
echo the secrets they told
in the hush of mountains we roam.
The vision they had of man
walking hand in hand in peace
walking like walking trees
in a land of corn and walking dreams
is a river of hope flowing from you
to me and back…
What lives in me is you,
Moon-glow, star-fire in turbulent dark
turning the wheel of my hidden heart.
Sedona, Arizona, 1995