Star Cave
Wind’s insistent chisel
chips away fragments of rock
turning it into stony essence
of pillar, face, animal, and here –
burnt sienna womb cave
where the ancestors painted stars
on the ceiling.
I send a prayer to Wind –
Chisel me like the rock,
strip away
the powder puffs of ego,
loosen
the aching tendons of control,
pry off
the veneer of education,
blow away
the dressy layers of civilization.
Chisel me into
breathing, sculpted essence,
until I am
naked and windswept,
until I remember
who I was and
who I am to be now.
Canyon de Chelly
The Beauty Along the Road 
Beautiful, strong poem–the words feel like the stone in the cave.
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“Chisel me into
breathing, sculpted essence,
until I am
naked and windswept,
until I remember
who I was and
who I am to be now”
I love this! Glad you put a link to this in your recap. 🙂
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Thank you, Cyndi. It is one of my all-time favorites…
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A fitting poem to the place. Did you write it? I love it. The ending especially.
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Thank you. Yes, I wrote this poem after visiting Star Cave several times, sitting quietly and listening to the wind blowing down the canyon.
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