No Ordinary Sky

In a place

where the sky stretches wide,


wherever the eye might rest.

Painted lines,

smooth , sinuous hues

and warning signs;

no kind deceptions.

Heart on its sleeve,


West to East.

Variegated rainbow,

no phenomenon lasts long.


Stood against such a backdrop,

every heavenly light,

lit in the black

of this hallowed, empty land.

This must have been a place

of strong medicine.

Even the trees have secrets.

In such a gold and crimson dawn,

the day slips on

a mist coat,

or a deeper fog.

Concealing her charms

until hot sun comes.


Perfect in her wild heart;




and terrible,

like reading the mind of God

and knowing awe

and beauty,

and suffering

all at once.


No grainy,

half building,

hidden image,

washed out by radiant eyes

and mixed silicon circuits.

Some places are still sacred.

Shaman circles,

whistling the auroras

into deep slashes across the sky.

The spirits

wrap themselves around Polaris

and bring still winter;

cold as death.


Never straining.

Making the hard life easy.

Only the Ever-Dark

shows the procession

of Orion across the sky.

A cathedral of stillness,

ice and night

and light of burning objects

seen through time,

like a scrying stone.


Deep, fire red;

neon dawn.

A new day spills out

from the cut throat

of the night before.

It is what is;

this land

this sky.

We are under one

and children of the other,

until the time

that our roles reverse.


HG – 2018

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