He Who Soars

Here’s some of the inspiration I had when visiting the Sears-Kaye Ruin in the Tonto National Park:

“His name shall be He Who Soars. He will be a legend in his own time because of his sight. He shall be a look out extraordinaire that takes flight with the birds of the sky.” The elder looked Meadow Blossom directly in the eyes as his hand lay the stick down that he was drawing with while gesturing to the signs in the dirt.

She looked at the elder and then at her expansive abdomen with a sparkle in her eyes, ‘thank you elder,” she said simply as there were no other words that came to her mind to describe how elated she was to be the one to birth such a valuable male to the tribe.

Knowingly, the elder sat back on his haunches to light his pipe and take in the scene around him of the bustling desert community in the background and the pregnant squaw in front of him. “We will have cause to celebrate at his birth.”


After many centuries pass:
I gasp at the ruin of the land
A tear falls uncontrolled
Only to dissipate in the summer heat
My heart it aches
A sob escapes
It lands on the earth as a dirt devil
To spin its way,
Notice! Look!
But such small signs are ignored
While Mother Earth stirs
From a troubled sleep
Oh Lady,
I still try
Although I no longer exist on this plane

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