my mind blistered by computers, traffic, blinded
by programmed routines, resisting until my feet forged
rocky paths, copper and marigold rays awakened
morning gray, the sky began to blush, then slowly
all colors harmonized into brightness, the wind,
recycling through, grasslands curved and returned
like wings of a graceful bird. Trails dusted by tales,
Patwin Suisune’s energy once touched this land,
eyes saw more than its beauty, flesh gone,
but bones fertilize, unseen lives drawn
to the sky, even the wind can’t blow them away.
Red-tailed hawks circled, guarding sacred spirits,
open spaces, synchronized pride and peace,
dark-tan cows sauntered around, mirrored curiosity,
having no more energy, a gray wooden fence
bowed to time, empty picnic tables waiting
for appreciative audiences, for applause,
a distinctive cottonwood stood alone.
Patchwork of browns and greens threaded
with strings of lemon-yellow mustard, shuddered
in gusts, eager for the opus of June’s sun,
buckeyes, strong like pillars, moss clinging
to their bark, slight aroma of yarrow underneath,
my thoughts began to relax in the sites and light.
Arriving at a reed-lined reservoir, mallards,
red-winged blackbirds serenaded me, I paused…
…mesmerized, until a cool shake, goose bumps,
voices of the past spoke through the views,
undulating hills, thin ripples on gentle water,
joy tucked in quiet places, collectively whispering.