Ancient Ones,
Anasazi and Hopi and Navajo,
beckon us --
come visit our once-stately homes
and view our fading rock art --
envision our way of life
and respect our life ways.
Many come, look, and leave,
but the spirits urge lingering,
whispering to all --
remain a while.
Hear the echoes of our voices,
feel our canyon winds,
smell our sweet desert fragrances,
taste our falling raindrops
and watch our arid sand
briefly harden, then billow green again.
Feel the shade of our cottonwood
and marvel at our sudden waterfalls,
discern the wild presence
of our unseen mountain lions and coyotes,
then rest beneath our shade houses
and find respite from heat and troubles.
Camp within the embrace of our spirits --
so long departed,
yet ever-present.
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