a conversation of rock images with gods
today for me was of effort and wonder,
of fear and perseverance,
of getting out of my comfort zone
and into surprise at what I can still do,
after the easy fluidity of moving across rough landscape has abandoned me,
my body and will persist enough to get me
where ancient peoples expressed themselves with finely carved images
of both recognizable shapes and with shapes off enough from the regular
to intrigue our minds and lead us into speculation
with as much of ourselves as we can muster,
how much did the people who stood here long years ago
work to speak clearly with their rock language and to whom?
the voice of their images will speaks with power,
what the voices say riddles us into appreciative wonder,
and I also feel I might be listening into a conversation
between those long-gone writers and their gods,
we spy a gorgeous feather and a carefully-created bundle
at the base of one panel of petroglyphs,
and we wonder if a contemporary hears the images as prayer,
and adds their offering, for they, too,
seek to connect with the divine,
and find themselves within this primal conversation,
I thank my stars that, for now,
within the images frozen upon the rock.
by Henry H. Walker
March 12, ‘26
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