My puny human senses
have been
stunned
by the sights, sounds
and smells
of Arizona's
wild, high-country
splendor.

I heard whish-whistling eerily singing far aloft in skies high dizziness,
saw straight-crookedy limbs of proudly out-thrust, hoary wood,
witnessed brilliant flashes of elegant, scintillating dark-needled greens,
smelled primordial sensual saps of pitchy life, pungent damps of moldy-rich loam,
felt quivers and slants of light-beamed rays, sun's life-being...
all under one beautiful tree,
a Ponderosa Pine.

"Spiritual"
best describes
feelings and
soul-impressions
from grandeur of
long-lived forests
in White Mountain's
heights.

I felt strange tickling vibrations and humming tones of wild life-lines,
sensed the rightness of nature’s evolving saga of experimentation,
blended with wind’s playful nature while retaining power of forceful change,
overwhelmed mind-sight with recurring depth of beauty at every turn of journey’s fate,
flew to horizon’s view with rapt sharpness of attention-memorizing awareness...
used to salve my travel-weary soul as I go through
Time's ringed life.

Erin Moen
7/27/02
Copyright 2002 ©