Here, in the sea-salt prairie ocean
with mountain shores awash in sagebrush shale,
is home, where we pray for rain
and anoint our wounds with milk and honey.
Where alpine forests sprout from desert stone, the huntsman’s sanctuary,
and irradiated white-water veils
blur the line between sea and sky.
I pressed my cheek to salted earth and wept.
Arches of steel and sandstone
straddle the fault-line divide
reaching heavenward, supporting sky bound stars
in sickness and in health.
Come, lay your burden down in the copper hills.
Snow-capped refuge, land of a thousand tribes.
Speak easy my outcasts, my family,
Open your mouth and wait for rain
Wait for rain
It’s hidden in the canyon walls.