We went up to Eagle Creek today
through mountains mantled in dust,
dirt roads with wayward rocks poked up
making 4-wheel drive a must.
The mountains look tired, and burdened down
the cactus even looked parched.
But far on down in a split in the ground
a spring-green ribbon still marched.

So down we went, to the ribbon of green
along the winding way
tall cliffs of rock and bare mesquite
start to cringe from the heat of day.
Some ragged deer are heading there
to find a hint of shade
they follow a wash long in length
the heat makes them shimmer and fade.

The way gets rougher, the ribbon is near,
but still a ways to go
Anticipation builds, the need to see,
the getting there, oh so slow!
We look and find the breach in the hill
that sends us hairpinning down
and there it is, what we've come to breath
nature's green river gown.

The sudden flare of the sun-touched scene
captures our rapture-filled eyes
the feel, the look, the smell in the air
even the buzz of the flies
combine to sooth the dusty wounds
of desert-dwelling pain
the months are long and tedious
without the strength of rain.

But we must wretchedly pass over the flow
and climb up once again, this time not so high,
for calling so sweet in fluid notes
is our slice of the liquid pie.
The stop is rushed and doors fly open
we all gallop to the place
where toes are cooled and eyes are moved
it turns into a race!

And, oh the feel of earths's bold blood
running true and free
the gurgling and eddies meet
performing life's dance for me.
Upon the banks, the cottonwoods
tall and mighty kings
hold court with leafed trumpets of wind
and provide halls of shady rings.

I am alone, my thoughts are calmed
the others are up the way,
my skin absorbs the humid air
and the beauty of the day.
My spirit soars upon the breeze
bouyed by wonders seen
faraway down in a split in the ground
and along my ribbon of green.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 5/26/02
Photo by Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen