Canyon Song

The winding roads of the canyon welcome me home,
embraced by the hills and mesas
standing tall on all sides of me.

The oaks dance and wave,
the tall pines stand guard,
guiding me to this sacred belonging.

The wind sings differently in the canyon…
verse, reframe, chorus, bridge…
and back to verse again-
echoing off the hillsides,
back to the mesa,
through every leaf and towering pine,
into the quiet chambers of my breath,
and back again.

The deer, in their softened grace,
gaze at me,
and I gaze back,
holding,
breathing as one.

The magnificent osprey...
whom I once had the honor of photographing,
soars high above,
painting a masterpiece
in the skies of my heart.

As I walk toward my special place,
the gurgling stream
whispers all the stories
that will forever echo
through each beat of my heart.

A squirrel chatters a welcome,
and I smile
as he scampers away.

Here, the trees bow
to this sacred ground…
and I join them.

I look out across the long memory of living,
the clouds of today
drifting to meet
the clouds of yesterday,
and yet,
here I am…
still…
still…

The leaves flutter as one,
find their own rhythm
in their stopping,
a cascade of all the dreams
I carry…
have carried…
and even…
have yet to carry.

The sun begins its descent...
it too knows
we are on the other side
of this beautiful life.

And the great pine
releases its breath of silence,
reverently proclaiming-
look at the vast array
of wildflowers
this life has yet given you.