Monday, December 4, 2017
Save Our Sacred Spaces
Whispers of juniper,
Sage scent of star filled nights;
Wind whispering softly of
Remembered rites on plazas
Dancing to the drum, song, prayers
That echo still.
Handholds furrowed into cliff sides
Painted in prehistoric colors.
Footsteps of the ancients follow
Lightly dusted trade roads
Between carefully placed stones of origins.
Bears Ears: Birthplace of living nations.