fire

I took a walk yesterday into areas of my landscape that have lain fallow to my attention.  We forget, I think, how environment shapes our senses.  How it narrows or broadens our vision.  How it points to what is truly there and what is constructed from our desire.

In a lovely bookstore in Santa Fe, I came across the poems of Joy Harjo which illuminate this sense of connecting with the earth, sun and sky.  I hope you like them.

~~~

Fire

a woman can’t survive
by her own breath
    alone
she must know
the voices of mountains
she must recognize
the foreverness of blue sky
she must flow
with the elusive
bodies
of night winds
who will take her
into herself

look at me
i am not a separate woman
i am the continuance
of blue sky
i am the throat
of the mountains
a night wind
who burns
with every breath
she takes

from How We Became Human: New and Selected Poems: 1975-2001