I
don’t 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
other’s 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