Sniokeij
niountam
Tiail
-Illeqan EbnendoiK
As
follow the footsteps of those
I
A mournful While
And
echo creeps
in
now
gone,
upon me,
dawn
a cool mist drifts across the purple
the perceptive music of nature
makes
a soft plea.
Rushing water over bulky black boulders Is
thunder crashing through the mountains.
The world
twirling on Atlas' shoulders.
Spins whirling rivers and fountains.
Dancing shadows across
And
of moss,
the cries of grinding pebbles underfoot,
Are
secrets of old that are not lost;
With I
a velvet carpet
~
a history that
my body
find
is
black as soot.~
in the rolling
Thick roots are
my
blue ridges:
backbone
Arteries—rivers running under bridges
Nature
is
my
beating heart encased in a green throne.
Mysterious pathways branch away;
Entwining roots gather 'round
With jagged
And
cliffs
trees;
towering grey;
whispers of old sing
in the breeze.
photo by Brian Gonzalez
