The Gondola Pulls My Sister up the Mountain

The gondola pulls my sister up the mountain
on thin, shiny cables,
 into the clouds, the mountain,
the forests of spruce and pine
while I remain in the valley below
to build a dream catcher from a thin branch of willow knotted together by stands of sinew string
and a small hawk feather I found beside a rabbit hole. When I hold my handmade loop up to my eye,
I see all that ties me close
to spruce and pine, to mountain, earth and sky,
to my sister whispering to the animals,
to the day and night filled with stars.
As she ascends into the clouds,
as she escapes earth and its worries for a bit,
I stand where I am,
below in the Bow Valley,
in the doubt, fear and uncertainty that is me.
Looking into the loop of willow wood
I find the dream caught within me.