Lady of the Canyon



And the canyon held her

Like a mother holds

a grieving child

who lost her holy place

to slaughter.

The trees wept.


she gathered pinion

pine, fir, and spruce

to acknowledge

the sanctity of trees

in this dark season

of golden winter light.


She gathers in the greening.


The scent of pitch

sticks to hands

tipping branches

In Love.

Giving thanks.

She imagines beloved

Black bears


behind boulders,

feels a powerful

beary presence nearby…

She has been

offered another gift

in this place

where clear spring waters

tumble down steep mountain cliffs

and watercress grows…

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