Monday, March 16, 2009

earth note 123

circa 1980

hart prairie snowfall
came early november
the year we moved to flagstaff
the peaks rose with aspen
for three-fourths their vertical
we broke our ski trail
first on the prairie
then to the gradual contours
deep into the mountain spirits

my four sons were old enough to walk miles
so when we gathered up cross-country skis
from our minnesota days
and headed to the prairie
there was the anticipation of new adventure

friday after thanksgiving day
the sun had instances of being dominant
yet the cold was sufficient to keep the snow
and every swoosh had the lightest of glide
the ski almost lifted itself
for the next step

loggers had cleared whole tracts
from the lower elevations
but by the time we climbed
into the ponderosa and aspen groves
quiet took over
our own breathing
a rhythm

our ignorance deprived us
of the hopi and navajo stories
from the mountain
yet anyone who ventured there
intuitively felt the presence
of something much greater
than themselves
as we did
for ancestors all come from the same
mothers and fathers of africa

about the time we reached the tree line
voices and a few screeches
drifted over the mountain
seems we had invaded the downhill ski resort
in our not-chic guerrilla clothing
no-pay ski pass
crashing the toll gate
my sons all smiled mischief
i did nothing to discourage them

we would return many times
to the peaks over hart prairie
each season with its
unique angle
on the light
shepherded by footsteps
of the seekers
unbound in the trails
not yet followed

--- e b bortz

1 comment:

Sandra said...

I made this comment in the wrong place so I am correcting it. I am happy to see that you have written a poem that puts a light on your four 4! sons. What was that 4 letter word anyway?