The Creator gave me life.
I was born from dust and clay.
The Wind dances in my lungs.
From chrysocolla skies
my dreams are chiseled.
From granite clouds,
I was given inner strength.
My life and the land are one.
My faith flows in sandy rivers
traversing painted wastelands,
standing ageless as Bristlecone Pines.
One day,
my tangible existence will expire.
But I will forever roam
landscapes of beauty.