In a heart beat, I’d rip down the walls of square existence, and all of civilization, in exchange for simple beauty. My own shadow speaks. My enemies are those that destroy beauty.
I leave town with pop in my jug and the cool wind coming through the window. Towards the rolling hills I go, covered with dense Juniper, and Pinion Pine, where cloud shadows twist and roll. My pop jug is full of Mountain Dew; and I’m feeling the cold air hitting my face. I?m happy and humble. The desert clouds hum above my car, as it travels down the shady highway, further from town. The town glistens behind, where busy mice hurry in their trivial lives.
Turning off the highway, onto a dirt road. The car ploughs down the road, towards the mountains. Gravel slams the floor beneath. The tires plow through soft dirt, making thick clouds of dust. Towards those lonesome hills I go.
The sky is so blue, and so calm. The desert is so clean and wide open. Nobody can find me out here in the sticks, of long ago. The deeper I venture, the freer I become. The Earth Mother is so beautiful. She is so comforting. Out of the hills, cloud shadows carve the landscape. The landscape has no end. It cannot be sold. Beautiful is the wild. The desert is a haven of peace and harmony.
I hear my own shadow singing.
2 thoughts on “Towards Them Hills, I Go”
To hear one’s own shadow singing – what a beautiful sound that must have been.
The shadow, is something like a voice from the center. It is finding the power within, instead of trying to control other individuals. It is an innate thing. It means weighing things on your own scales instead of those of the status quo, and finding ways to be personally sovereign from the system. These ideas are not mine, they were inspired a friend, James Starkey!