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Watching the mauve
shadows of dusk move
across the sandstone
cliffs, the traveler felt
suddenly weak.

The cries of circling birds
filled him with unease,
and he sensed a mysterious
presence behind him.
But when he turned,
he saw only...
an olive tree in the breeze.

 

On his way
out the window,
        the philosopher thought,                                               "Becoming-air...		 Sun leaps from leaf to leaf;
a bug lands on my arm.
I brush it off; it flies back,
landing on the exact spot.
 

Terrain slopes down to trail and creek, where Water's consciousness bubbles
a manifestation of the ancient Mistress of the

  

Waters, ruler of life and regeneration. Her image
re-echoes in a snake-haired, bird-faced goddess
from gurgly words I don't yet understand.      

 

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