My Mount Angel

Mist falls over
Red clay mountains
Wild horses graze
Moving across steep slopes
Like floating statues
Calling
Gently calling my name
So I rise up and
I climb
I spent the summer
Exploring the reds and the greens
In a small box
I held a secret fear
Half expecting
Rattlesnakes
But found no such thing
At the base of this mountain
Where wild creatures bow
Spreading their
Wings
Following the red paths of the
Paint and her foal
I reach the top and
I realize that
They have moved on
Again they are out of my sight
Though not at all
Out of my mind
Standing upon new ground
I see that
The mare had led me
From the trail of tears
Our tracks
Left far behind
Yet deeply
Into the red earth and
Now I find joy in
Collecting sun-bleached
Bones and the
Skulls of animals with
Very sharp teeth
These dry and brittle remnants
Reminding me of
Just how alive I truly am
Each feather that I find
I add to the wings
Of my very own soul