tortilla moon
wild breath in my chest drawing me westward
magical wind swept tales told
7,000 feet high on cold creek wine
pudding soft arroyo steps
leading me in ways of elders and remarkable men
powered by thought and around 10,000 waves
the journey begins by finding
prisms in quartz veins
sponsored by The Shooting Star Illuminations™Co.
doughnut-glazed eyes try to concentrate
as sun drenched summits wave
wagging packs of pups approach
well used guitars everywhere
friends share all comforts
encourage untamed investigations into faces, stories, spaces
late winter climbs to hot spring pockets where no one ever minds waiting
it's about creatively mating with all life experiences
(this one guy waited for us in the Jemez Valley like literally all night and next morning was still smiling)
lick a lace agate slice
mold pots of sweet cherry clay
hang freedom weavings from roadside stands
is your devotion just a passing phase?
check the schedule
the train is pulling out of the station
at all the festivals, roasting pinon wood
over heating sun-ripened cheeks
every native wolf howling
pulse racing as vivid colors cast spells
get lots more drinking water
such passions can be dehydrating
damn chile cravings again
of all the places on this earth
blood mountain and moonscape.... really?
Santa Fe we need to talk,
time has come for me
to do my own cooking,
kick things up a notch,
pump my own heart
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