There are strange feelings in my bosom, singing in my cranium. They roar like thunder in summer. These dreams love beauty. They stand defiant against those that harm Mother Earth. For the land never stops calling my spirit. Those Pinion foothills call my name, and even spacious landscapes of isolation. Those mountains laugh and sing like coyotes, but they protect this loneliness.
I am free from the cage of society, free from chains. I throw away those consumerist woes. I can feel Earth Mother once again, and feel her beautiful dream, even on darkened nights.
The spring season draws nearer. Flowers start to bloom. The crickets are fiddling at dusk. Robins start their chaotic symphonies right before dawn. Far away from town, my mind floats through mountain valleys of sage and cedar.
In the middle of night the tower of stars glows bright. In a rocky canyon that surpasses time, I surpass the vanities of a punitive world. On that eroded desert floor my camp fire burns and crackles. The light flickers and dances off sandstone walls.
Sometimes a blackened forest is a cathedral in the bliss of night. When all else fails to make me happy, I disappear into the wild. I sometimes fear the mysteries that creep out there, to and fro; where rocks may speak their wishes! But on those long days, the Creator is looking after my lonely heart.
Forgotten whispers are carefully listened to. The old ways travel the wind. Always respect what is sacred.