Child of The Great Divide


Stone spires rise,

like jagged teeth

towards the sky.

Gateway guarded

by memories

of long gone times.

To the East,

the prairie stretches wide,

but I am a child of the great divide.

Wolves roam

the boundaries of the North,

through the forest’s end

and the tundra’s open course.

All the way

to the end of the Earth,

before one finds their direction reversed.

I don’t wander up

that far, anymore.

Looking South,

perhaps somewhere warm,

but even in the heat

of summertime,

I feel the mountains calling

in my mind.

Winter without snow

seems kind at first,

but as the sun

begins to pound the earth,

I seek some reprieve from the heat

and finding none,

I look towards the place

where I’ve begun.

Like child of the seaside

looks for sand,

and waves to ride,

I will always be

a child of the great divide.

Heigh peaks,

and glaciers green,

melt into water,

cold and clean.

Deep forest life,

the mountains teem.

From crashing river rapids

to slow streams

that feed the valleys,

lush and full of life.

A place for me and my kind.

I set my eyes

and set my mind

back home

where the stone spires rise.



DJR – 2023

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