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
