stepping over the mountain
seasons have worked upon these woods,
years, centuries, millennia,
ever since the first Indigenous peoples
felt a need to step over the mountains,
they paralleled the stream's cut of the rock,
and made a path to smooth out the drop-offs,
they and the mountain were as one,
like a dancer and their music,
I feel swallowed by green worlds
who hold the soil and sun
and lock us into their interweaving spells,
I listen to hear echoes from those First Peoples,
my steps hope to honor and echo their steps.
by Henry H. Walker
May 21, ‘24
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