Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Pondering The Depth Of A Silhouette



( Sleeping Beauty Mountain, Arizona)


Each one sees you differently

sleeping in granite. I perceive

a maiden crowned with leaves,

her hair flowing into long arms

that fall into the folds of her gown.

 

Daughter of  high priest or chieftain,

your spirit is restless

under this sarcophagus of stone. Your silhouette

looms, casting a legend in the southwest light.

You were the girl who stretched

skeins of sky and water across the earth

and left traces of turquoise in its rock.

 

Only chosen midwives and shamans

were meant to seek this resource

and learn of its power, its purity.

 

Only  desert hawk and tortoise

were assigned to guide the way.

Wings and shells. You thought it would be enough

to grant the freedom of such knowledge

and shelter it with a healer’s awe. But others came.

Miners and settlers, merchants and surveyors.

 

They all came  without consulting

their conscious or the summit

where you dwelt and still continue to dwell.

A maiden crowned with leaves,

her hair flowing into long  arms

that fall into the folds of her gown.

 

A maiden whose hands clench  dust –

breath of a talisman.

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