Open Range

desert sandsI found what seeking souls almost never find
though quite by accident
Travel as though we will and never find
there truly is some happiness right to the end
Somewhere in the high desert it dawned on me that
we almost always come back around
Back around to where we began
and yet forever seek
Only those who understand the balance between wind
the sun and dreams
Yet sometimes that cruel place called winter
that quivers in the sage unforgiving
In the high desert mountains of New Mexico
a place called Magdelena
There I saw a vision as though
I too could claim native origins
No that is not for me to claim ……no
yet the spirits demand we see
As if it held my chin and turned away in anger
it came to me ……here it is
Peace without end and an end
without the struggle of a wandering soul
Thank you lord ……No it wasnt too late
I am there
I am home


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Sometime in my life, I started to write about my life journey, in poetry, in story perhaps to sort them out and enter them into a place of safekeeping. The soul of the writer is perhaps best described in their words, emotions and thoughts. If these poems or stories touch something inside you then maybe I have succeeded in sharing. I will not write about my self in profile, because self isn't so important in writing. Only the journey in words and the sharing are important. Why would we say "Now about me!"... I'd rather write about life, nature, serenity ...

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