the sun retreats behind a cloud. I open my eyes, having forgotten for a moment the height to which my body has carried me. Beneath: her footsteps carry her crunching across the blackred rock and I witness her descent. My own feet burn, bare for lack of boots which lay moistened beyond use from the rain last night down below, below a far reach. My muscles slumber within my skin.
Green, green and there is so much life here. Like the moon, they say. All volcanos, all rock, all lifeless, but my senses speak of other truths. Magic. Always magic, wherever I am.
Previously I glistened in the sun, warm beneath my sweater and my overalls, made more of dirt than corduroy. Blossom, buzz, breathe. This is pure, ecstatic bliss. Finally arrived and gently, I wake.
As the wind shares her enthusiasm, the sound of the family below dissispates and I am immersed in the desert language. One that speaks of savoring each drop of water to create ghost flowers and spiny fruits.
I enter timelessness, in love with this time, free. I am each creature whispering along the rocks. I, exquisitely and permanently, a guest, become further within myself, entirely removed from all sense of I.
Eyes flutter shut, I promise wakefulness to a later moment.
2.28.17 Pinacates, Sonora, Mexico