Bury me at the mouth of the canyon
and let my spirit take the byway
to the falls deep inside the range.
Hills to see from and His Mountain
at my back.
I buried my life
at the side of the rier
The water never looked prettier
clear stream in sun
with just the right touch
of frost in her.
Then she turned angry
when the pouring rain
drenched us both.
I came home to her and I fell in love.
I was born in the village of the wolves
but through domestication’s many forms
forgot my spirit in that incarnation.
I found myself when I saw the mountain man.
when a friend of the past life
pointed him out.
Deep is the love of family, community,
and the traditions of yore
I will not ever forget them.
But the yearning of my spirit is to be free
To be good, even if it means
leaving the past behind.