Vexed,
burning, chastened by the sun
Wheels grasping, sand churning
Ancestral ocean welling up and pooling on my shores
Then melting into the empty blue sky.
Sandstone elder, reaching
out over the gap
Drawing me back to the Ancient Ones
Opening the circle to my wayward, vagabond soul
I enter and wait for the stillness. . .
Rattlesnake priest, I've
come willingly
The Land is thirsty and my blood runs full
Sink your fangs into my flesh
Give me sanctuary.
By Britt Griscom
