Living in the valley
between the snow capped mountains,
home to elk, and bear, and wolf.
A place
where the bones of the Earth
break through,
creating a rampart
that rings our home,
protecting us
from the rest of creation.
Safety is tough to find
in this world.
Mother Earth
is pitted against Father God.
Sister Day,
shines and blazes,
while Brother Night recedes.
The Valley is quiet.
It remembers a time
long before people,
before buildings,
and before roads.
It asks the Sky,
how long it will be
before the people
are gone again,
and the Sky replies;
“Not long.
Not long.”
The world awaits,
spring and summer
and the return of the herds.
The great menagerie
of roaming ungulates
and rich tourists
from overseas,
who come to stare,
with awe and fear
at the valley.
The awe is normal,
as is the fear.
Many of them know
that the valley hungers,
like a starving creature.
Wander too far
and you will disappear
into the wild forest;
for Mother Nature
has never tired of the sport
of hunting Men.
Pink sky in mountain evening.
Clean air
and quiet night come.
The valley hushed,
curled up under ancestral blankets
and by warm fires.
Dreams come to the valley
like fresh snow.
HG – 2022
