Over the mountains blue, pink, white
i hear the moan of a presence
a wind opalescent white comes up over the top of the mountain moves down the bottom
into the deep valley mist
voices come and go from down in the valley
the hawk makes its call over the mist
circling and circling
flying toward me in slow motion
long silky fingerless feathers of time
slowly moving so graceful up and down
millions of years to get this so perfect
stoic and still with nature, mother earth the queen
her heart beats thousands below me
deep red hot lava boiling inside her gully.
wind comes again in a deep moan of white billowy gauzes blinding me from what i see touching my soul
i know she is there with me
