Consummation

I have felt the land
and the words
calling me
for some time now.
And truly,
there is no greater reprieve
than to walk beyond the gate,
across the road from the house,
down the lane.
To hear the Meadow Larks with their
intricately shattering song,
and to taste the tiny, delicate white Lily,
and to see that ridge of stone
that protrudes from the earth
like the backbone
of some giant creature swimming
eons slowly through the crust
in these dry foothills
before the mountains.
-
I remember the way her hands moved,
weathered, strong, with the dust of wild land on them,
as they turned towards the sky.
And a friend, a mother,
a wise teacher who has given me songs
shared her prayer;
when she asked the universe:
"Make best use of me."
-
I feel that way now,
my heart so full everyday
with the medicine of animals
and the true, pure love for another,
and hard, honest work I believe in,
from sunrise to sunset.
Sometimes, it takes a moment before I am ready
to go and catch the poem
that has been waiting patiently
in the tall golden rabbit brush
and the wind swept sky.