By Michelle Raskey
Traversing the path through your crests and curves
Stepping farther into your mystic land,
Watched by ancient ghosts.
At each crunch of my boot I shed
Layers of accumulated fabrics, growing smaller:
First mule deer, now coyote, next badger –
Until I disrobe completely, a snake.
Rusty red blood carries me and I
Slither across your rocks and truth.
My sacred pilgrimage complete I open my eyes,
Wet wings unfold,
I take flight and hunt.
Pretty🧡💛💚
Thank you!
A TRIP THROUGH TIME AND HISTORY INDEED-ALL THE ONES WHO HAVE GONE BEFORE WITH MILLIONS OF DNA LEFT UNDERFOOT. ANIMALS AND THE SNAKE WHO TOUCHES IT ALL IN TOTALITY. THE CAVES WITHIN THE ROCK WHERE PEOPLE LIVED, THE HUNTERS GATHERING FOOD AND HOPEFULLY THE SEEDS GETTING ENOUGH WATER TO PRODUCE PLANT LIFE SUITABLE TO SUSTAIN LIFE. EVERYTHING IS HISTORY WITH MILLIONS OF STORIES TO BE TOLD. AS ALWAYS, MICHELLE, YOU NAILED IT. HAVING LIVED IN ARIZONA, I FELT THIS ATMOSPHERE ALSO, EVEN AS A CHILD.