This Place
The winds led them to settle in this place
this place of golden sun bathed by rain and snow
one year a storm blew different from the ones before
The sky at dusk warned rustling pines of serious things to come
heavy storms usually caused most things to bend
this time a more threatening message was sent
Some heard strange sounds, the rumblings of the gods
it shook loose the aroma that embraced, and
held the pine trees firmly to the ground
It hit with embittered cold
nothing was untouched
wildlife and human, young and old
When it was over the pines rose
standing where they still stand tall
strong under golden sunlight all year long
Where I was born is a sacred place
its magnificence stings my eyes
beauty, causes tears to run upon my face
I feel and hear things I cannot describe
wind gods often lead me to this site
this place of rain and snow where pine trees grow
where skies are huge with lots of blue
where my ancestors are buried in the forest floor
this place where I too grew. |