The raw Pacific flowing from the ice
roars my name,
Lost one, come to me and dance on my sands.
Feel my power.
Let my winds inflate you with breath and lift you to the heavens.
And I will go there someday, again,
to stand audaciously near its crashing arms,
taunting it to capture my soul,
suffocate me with its swell.
I will go there to survey
its flowing abundance
touching the sky,
melding into one.
The elegant desert wind
whispers my name,
Little one, come and dance with me,
pinyon and sage here to nurture.
Greet the hush of the olds ones waiting.
And I go there,
muted greens rolling through the hills,
heat seeping into my pores,
sitting quietly beguiled by the swallows.
I go there to haunt the arroyos,
watching the old man sleeping,
face to the sky,
dreaming as one.
December 22 – Travel. How did you travel in 2010? How and/or where would you like to travel next year? (Author: Tara Hunt)