Out here in the middle of nowhere the centuries drop away.
This land was once covered with water, with ash.
Now a skin of silt and rabbit brush
stretches taut from east to west,
protecting what lies beneath--
the rhythm of the earth,
strong and steady.
Viscerally attached
to this sacred ground,
I have been here for ages.
My grandfathers hunted here.
My grandmothers nurtured gardens.
The cells of my body came from this soil.
It feels as though my spirit was formed in this place
and came up out of the ground through the generations.
The image is a digital painting from my original photo.
Poem by Linda Anderson Smith, previously published in Messages from the Hidden Lake, Volume III, 2011.
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