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.