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Open Poetry #13
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Spirit of White Sage and Eagle
| Open Poetry #13 |
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Spirit of White Sage and Eagle |
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Corinne Member Ascendant
since 1999-10-28
Posts 5167state of confusion 
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Spirit of White Sage and Eagle There came a longing to return to a sacred desert land I once knew, what secrets might be revealed in golden mountains, skies ever blue. Many times in my past, I have found comfort there, here, everything moves too fast; for time, the desert has no cares. We made our first visit when I was eight, Mother piloted the station wagon, Brother and I fought in the back seat, the mountains, we said, were sleeping dragons. We descended to the desert floor, calling out the many landscape changes, tumbleweeds, jackrabbits, cacti, all chased the far-off mountain ranges. We swam in an ancient Indian spring It smelled of raw eggs, speckled in gold formed into a circular pattern of rock, by the Kumeyaay Indians we were told. The sun baked our young bodies golden and our hair became sun bleached silk, we hiked, shouted at the rocks we found and at night we slept beneath stars of milk. And as I grew older, the desert drew me, to where the spirit of white sage and eagle dwelt, when I was twenty, I finally came alone, It was the most ecclesiastical I have felt. I stood among the mesquite and ocotillo, a spiritual quietude sang in my ears, saw the barrel cactus flowers turn yellow as the spirit spoke to me through tears. It was spring, winds blew and rain came, to awaken the long dormant seeds, they washed my existence clean, with drops of water like colored beads. Wildflowers appeared magically, I side-stepped the jumping cholla and touched pink blooms of the fishhook, listening to the spirit of sand. When the day gave way to night, came nature’s nocturnal grand play - sands came alive, bustling with life, ancient patterns of survival on display. At sunrise, the roadrunner was unafraid, I think he sensed that I was a friend. I searched for other signs of activity, Like a sidewinder’s trail in the sand. Now, years later, I have returned, Kumayaay spirit rushes like the wind to me, the quail sings a song only she understands, but to me she speaks quite clearly. © March 1999 Corinne Bailey |
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| © Copyright 2001 Corinne - All Rights Reserved | |||
Interloper
since 2000-11-06
Posts 8369Deep in the heart |
Well done. Write on. Live for love. Without love, you don't live. |
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Rosebud1229 Senior Member
since 2000-04-05
Posts 1813North Carolina |
really beautiful, I to am often in awe of nature around me |
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Wilfred Yeats Member Elite
since 2000-08-04
Posts 2704Wilmington, Delaware |
I cannot say enough about this - so I will say little = this says EXACTLY How I feel about the desert - and with almost painful accuracy triggers again my desire to return. This will go to my treasure box - in a most special place |
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Martie
Moderator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-09-21
Posts 28049California |
Corinne--this is awesome...I love the desert..and all the things you spoke of, were like they came from my heart. Thank you! |
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Irish Rose Member Patricius
since 2000-04-06
Posts 10263 |
This is fantastic, I've never been to the desert, but reading this, I felt it with each line, it seemed so real. Thank you for a great read, Corinne. Kathleen Blake |
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Sven
since 1999-11-23
Posts 14937East Lansing, MI USA |
a superb picture well painted by your words Corinne. . . excellent. . .  -------------------------------------------------------- To the world, you may only be one person. But to one person, you may be the world. |
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Marge Tindal
since 1999-11-06
Posts 42384Florida's Foreverly Shores |
Corinne~ What a wonderful telling ... 'And as I grew older, the desert drew me, to where the spirit of white sage and eagle dwelt, when I was twenty, I finally came alone, It was the most ecclesiastical I have felt.' The vision of your questing was so comforting for me to read. Thank you for introducing me to the history of these gentle people - I'm on a search to learn more about them and their heritage. They were uniquely habitants of the region of San Diego ... and it's soooooooo interesting to read of them. A BIG THANKS ~ ~*Marge*~ ~*The pen of the poet never runs out of ink, as long as we breathe.*~ |
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RMW Senior Member
since 2001-03-21
Posts 1424 |
We write best when we write of that close to the heart. Very intimate. Bob |
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Corinne Member Ascendant
since 1999-10-28
Posts 5167state of confusion |
Thank you, Interloper and Rosebud! Bill, I'm so glad you enjoyed and related to this, thank you! Martie - thank you, it is truly a special place. Kathleen, you should go someday, Kathleen, I know you'd love it. Thank you, Sven! Marge - Ahh, I was wondering if you knew of them, Marge! A very strong spirit resides there, made up of many. I know you know what I mean, and thank you! Bob - only posted this after reading your wonderful desert poem, thank you! Corinne |
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Parker Member Elite
since 2000-01-06
Posts 3129ON |
Corinne, really enjoyed this write. I find a simular drawing need to visit the south shore of Nova Scotia. It's probably the rum calling though. Park |
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suthern
since 1999-07-29
Posts 20723Louisiana |
Your words have taken us all on a visit to the desert... and that respite is greatly appreciated here. *S* Well written! |
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Corinne Member Ascendant
since 1999-10-28
Posts 5167state of confusion |
Thanks Park, glad you enjoyed. I'm sure I would feel the same way about Nova Scotia, especially if I could hang out around some lighthouses! Thank you, Suthern! Corinne |
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