Zion, My Home

I donít know what I was healed of in Zion but there was a melting of walls,

a dissolution of motes in the soul of the eye, a vast opening within.

 

Omni directional, this opening, and clean as the late October sky above the towering rock, but sovereign somehow

like the risen chest of an angel or the collective smiles of all smiling creatures.

The sheen and life-glow of all-eyed nature began to dwell in me as we shared

each otherís secrets and songs.

 

At the foot of august red rock, shear and soaring skyward, I felt my feet on my garden ground, my true garden where I grew but not until now truly knowing I was in its midst all the while.

 

This garden, protected by unmoving giants, beneficent towards the desert floor 

all green from river water and captured rain.

 

Birds dotting the cottonwoods, tilting with delight in the soft piccolo echoes tossed back by the great sandstone cliffs and rapturing the vast aquarium of air made vibrant and sweet by the silent, elemental surrender of monolithic rock.  Fire-cracked, water-smoothed, wind-washed, earth-molded pilgrims who arrived long ago and stayed these millenniums to worship.

 

Raven fly up so my eye can follow

you to the high places above.

Take beauty in your strong, wedge beak

and bring beauty to beauty.

Open this stone-gladdened world to heaven. Fly.

 

Dec. 7, 2010

Taos , NM