Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Laboring forward, upward, pace-driven, pack-heavy,
Heat relentless from the summer sun,
Rock walls aglow, chapparal smelling of flame.
My body struggles to fulfill my fantasy
Of a cooling rain still a hundred seasons away....

Less wise than the aging machine that houses me,
I go up, each foothold in each rock
A challenge, a small victory.

Then a shadow crosses me, bringing for an instant
A glacial coolness and silence to this tormented canyon.
Looking up, I see the hawk, circling slowly,
As if to say, "Go on, friend. I will keep watch."

And I smile as a cool breeze comes down the canyon,
A gift,
Lifting my soul and my pack.
Muscles and tendons past their prime
Grow suddenly young again
As this song grows in my heart
And feeds my strength.

And I walk, walk free
In the shadow of the hawk.