Out on the edge of the prairie
where the brown bunchgrasses
overlook green alfalfa fields
and the view is filled over 200 degrees
with the span of the Wallowas
a low hill has a small ring of rocks.
What a location to sit and ponder
of time and traditions and
those-who-have-gone-before
yet... the crustose lichens lie thick
on the up-turned faces of these stones
waiting still for one to come again.
A perfect perch on the edge
of the wolf highway, where stars
fill the sky and mind
to wait for a vision, to craft a tale,
to consider what to pass on
to "the-people" who are yet to come.
What use did this site serve,
what contemplation found field here,
what stories lie buried, fed to the wind
as if... previous use might add value
to what yet lies exposed and open
to the questing mind... and heart.
Ralph Anderson, Entry #25
