This poetry is by John Hoener, a man I've recently met who loves the land, loves young people, and loves writing. Enjoy!
I
Traditional Hopi ritual: shell offerings in a small ash covered area
These ruins are more than a site occupied by ancient decedents
Sacred in the annual cycle of seasons
II
At first glance nothing to explain why an Anasazi clan called this home
Who is going to fetch water, haul firewood, and other tasks required to live in such an odd place; why
Spiritual values, abundant crops, good karma
Before abandonment, a great kiva, living quarters, granaries, and trash midden complete with a large pottery shard reflecting beauty that is more than simple utility
Today the mesa’s ruins are scattered mounds of rock
In-situ circumstances force a rewarding thought process complete with a dream-like trance
III
What is my spiritual mesa
Sunrises and sunsets with majestic views and brilliant night skies
The subtle colors of changing light on red rock
The cool shade of a juniper tree in the dry desert air
What must be given in return
I can only superficially compare my extended camping trip to ancient sacrifices
Cooler chores, water realities, resupply logistics, and basic hygiene
Though artificial, maybe a glimmer
Merge spiritual and ritual into something a shaman would bless as preparation for returning to a modern world
As a graduate student studying place-based education John departed the corporate world without regrets; nature, spirituality, and solitude developed new personal dimensions. That was over a decade ago, today he saunters throughout much of Wyoming and Utah migrating seasonally between deserts and mountains. Priorities include living in the moment and understanding/reflecting on the natural world.