CROSSROADS
We meet upon your ancient paths, dusty and dry husks
Of humanity, still striving in your magic light,
Poets and pilgrims, merchants and millers come to pursue
Dreams. Bright colored dreams of freedom and peace wrought
With pottery and glass beads. Tokens of tomorrow and remnants
Of the past. We weave our lives of varied hues choosing from your
Vast array of summits and sunsets, serapes and silk. Such is Taos.
City of myths, teacher of mysteries. Exotic dancer at the western
Edge of heaven.
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