She whispers, not breathing, at least not so that I can see, she bathes there in the cover of red rocks just like when she was fifteen. She’s at the two o’clock marker in the shadow of the Angel peak, I’m sixteen or fifty-five now, not no more than yesterday’s dream. The sandstone, looks past petrified mummies, the badlands of the San Juan basin to the back of a wet brown hued lady. “It was “such a long time”, she sings, the pool of clay seems clear at her feet, just sparkling minerals, dropping diamonds of sun beneath her wings.
The world has stopped, moving, and the sun would still it’s shine. The triune strata of the Kirtland Shale, The San Jose Formation, and Nacimiento Formation, bending to catch the sound of her voice singing Boston to me.
“Funny there would be music here”, I think I say, and then I wish there was stars, for maybe under the seven stars, this would all be a different dream, not real, not her making me dare, to be what maybe I can’t perceive.
Her fingers like the canyon, they bend and keep moving, bringing, the raw colors of the world to me. “You’re coming back to find me”, her voice, teasing, the sage carpet of the ancient ocean bending to see what I see.
She whispers, not breathing, at least not so that I can see, “it’s just outside of your front door”, and the angels come down from the peak, and they play with her. And just like the mystery of the song in the Kutz Canyon, she continues to sing to me. “I’ve got to keep on chasing that dream, though I may never find it, I’m always just behind it”. And the angel’s just fifteen, but she’s older than the peak, for it seems the vaults of canyons seem to echo, what she repeats, for a long time, all my life for a long time.
She whispers, not breathing, at least not so that I can see…10.7.2016 – דָּנִיֵּאל
- All rights to lyrics “Long Time” – Tom Schotz (Boston)
Daniel, I love this. Your scenes painted, along with the wonderful music takes meback to a beautiful place in my life. Thank you.
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Thank you so much Dallas. Are you familiar with the Angel Peak area?
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Your welcome. Back in the late eighties I worked at a gas site near there, and would often hike the areas on my weekends off. It is beautiful country.
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Very nice, I haven’t been back there myself since the seventies. Thank you for your comment.
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Again your welcome. I really enjoy when you write pieces based on the Southwest! 🙂 More please!
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“She whispers, not breathing, at least not so that I can see, “it’s just outside of your front door”, and the angels come down from the peak, and they play with her” Great prose! Love your writing.
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Thank you so much Darrin.
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As always you have captured my heart and imagination with your words. I love this too, Daniel!
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Thank you Ruby. You make my day. 🙂
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Your welcome. i know your post always make mine! ❤
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🙂
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Daniel, I love this! Your past leads to wonderful prose, and imagery, for your reader. This is a favorite!
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Thank you Ryan.
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Fantastic writing Daniel!
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Thank you.
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Angel Peak is a beautiful place in reality, and your prose. This was wonderful. ❤
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I am so happy you liked it. Thank you Blaire.
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Your welcome, this piece was exactly what I needed to fulfill a good day! 🙂
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🙂
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❤ this! The links are great, and your writing as usual supurb!
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Thanik you Danielle.
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Your wonderful Angel Peak, took this old man back to a wonderful time in my life. Mr. Massee does a wonderful job with his cover, on another favorite of mine. Thank you.
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I really like Mikes music too. Thank you for commenting Bill.
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Your welcome. I went on and listened to some more of Mike’s material. Apparently he is located in your neck of the woods. Good stuff.
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Wonderful!!! ❤
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Thank you. 🙂
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You are my favorite poet! This is stunning! 🙂
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Thank you Ronda.
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YW! 🙂
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the sage carpet of the ancient ocean bending to see what I see… These, along with other masterful words, have given a piece of beauty Daniel. Thank you. 💙
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Thank you Jenny, for your wonderful words. You are always welcome. 🙂
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You are welcome my friend. ☺️
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This is an incredible write. Well done!
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Thank you, I am so happy you liked it.
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I will be back many times to read more. Your very good!
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An echo is endless, even after our ears hear nothing.
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It is indeed my friend.
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