Her Undying Spirit

Upon the uppermost ridge line,
the trees, are sparsely placed.
It’s there I venture to feel Mother
Earth’s majesty, her abiding grace.

As the currents tug at my shirt, with
a fierceness born of the ridge.
I dig into my saddlebags to quickly
retrieve my coat of handcrafted hide.

Cibolo, my dun colored mustang,
stands easily, with me at his side.
Ever so wary, never ceasing in
looking about for looming danger.

With the setting of Grandfather Sun,
the temperature has begun to drop.
For with its demise, the winds seem
eager to run, like this mountain horse.

I hasten to make a cold camp, for there
aren’t enough trees to hide the smoke.
Without a fire, my four legged friend
is pinned as chores are quickly done.

I spread my bedroll out amongst the
broken terrain, using my saddle as a pillow.
Pulling on the brim, to hasten my hat down,
I wipe away the first of many tears.

For in doing so, my hands once more
touch the beaded hatband I wear proudly.
A gift, from the only true one to reside,
deeply within this gentle giant.

As I slip into the waking hour of dreams,
I find myself in an endless cascade of memories.
Ones of angelic laughter, while she and I
frolicked in the ocean’s surf.

There our bodies were often heated twice.
First by the warming rays falling from the sky,
then by the rising desire, born of true
unity we found always in one another.

There where the dying plains kiss
the Gulf of Mexico, we first met.
Now with the passage of time, many
moons have come and gone quietly.

With them comes the ever present
shadow called death, life’s companion.
I, the Hawk, am now an elder within
our clan, yet often away riding these hills.

For only in the ranges of steep inclines,
like these of the Guadalupe, am I found.
Here at the zenith of nature’s blanketed
shroud, I can climb a nearby summit.

For there at the highest neighboring peak,
I am once more in union with her. There I
can hold my arms open wide, as I am
embraced again and again by her spirit.