Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

this poem
lives alone
with it all its birthdays
scattered around it like the low weathered walls
of indian ruins just barely breaking the surface
of new mexico exposing themselves to a wind
that has been hundreds of thousands of years
in the making

(the photograph of this poem in words was
submitted to studio 8 at 7:44 a.m. on
Midsummer's Eve,June 20,2008)

a long day
a long way
anasazi pictographs
ancient astronomers
light and shadows
mark the seasons

The ancient ones
always we walk
in their footsteps

In the long run
the walls of our sky scrapers
will barely brake the surface

I love the wind
my life is in it.

mingo
thanks for a reason to scribble a few lines
I hope I have not vandalized your excellent poem

there is a mysticism to this, the notion of this wind that has been
forming for thousands of years...an interesting way to mark a point in time.....enjoyed

Acoma New Mexico
Passed through so many times
And never noticed
The shadows on the wall


I never hear the wind here
It diminishes me not to
the wind sounds the same
through out the ages
speaks of the ghosts
from remote consciousness

It takes silence to hear it
and there is no silence here

thanks for the sound of this one
I needed it

hey gypsy, & don't worry 'bout vandalizing anything,ya didn't, and i like hearing from ya anyway anytime...thanks for reading and I'm glad ya enjoyed it as much as did...saw,thx for reading as always and glad you enjoyed it too

could be that the longest day is the origin of the wind

nice piece, mingo

thx, Lightning,for reading & for seeing, & as always,for saying so...

Mingo I've walked the ruins of Chaco Canyon. Your poem captures the spirit of the place.

John