how long little brittle brush have you been here?
mountain how many times have the clouds touched your peaks
the wind rustles our branches
birds send their warning call
every moment changes
the way it all looks
I am an infant to the desert
which seems to have a collective soul
the deeper I go the more life is shown
if only i had wings
I'd skim the craggy mountainside
nestle deep in its valley folds
here is the constant reminder of the cycle of life
mighty saguaro its creamy white blossoms held tightly
to its chest awaiting its perfect moment to open its bloom
and next to it is a bent over shaded grey skeleton of a native tree
you are amazing
I feel you everywhere
from the smallest cloud
to the blazing orange sun that's on its way down


~*~
I had slipped away after settling on my back porch to read in the low moving clouds that day
and it took but a few seconds to realize where I wanted to be
I drove to her . my mountain
where i have been pulled to like a speck of iron to its huge magnet
i was blessed with such pure moments of silent fortitude
many little creatures came out from their burrows to see me
a small little hispanic girl, clutching her notebook in the wind
standing arms outstretched to the mountain the sky the sun
everything made sense
and as I walked the trails back home i felt an overwhelming love for all mankind
like I wanted to cook anyone i saw a wonderful meal and share thier life's stories
we are all here together
i think we forget that
we all wonder the same things
all want to figure it out

~*~
These pictures are of my favorite piece of local architecture
it faces my mountain
I love the use of metal
the striking beauty of the often bright blue sky against the well worn rusted metal
is just too much for me
i want to perch on the edge