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.