The Poem of the Watcher

The shadows still move across the canyons/

Where the Spruce tree breaks the spring's path,

I often linger there, waiting, watching for your return.

The ages are passing, one day as a year, one year as a day.

The earth continues to repeat the cycles of seasons.

   Still, I am here, a ghost that shadows the moon.

I cast my murky reflection against the kiva walls.

My path is lit by the glitter of stars ancient as time.

When will you return for me?

When will I breath the breathe you took

From me by your leaving?

I remain a shade, a shadow, until the sun forgets to bring warmth

To the distant hills and shadows to these canyons.

Only in your return can I hope to find rest.

Come from the ends of the earth!

Return to this place and release me.

Oh, my beloved, if you still exist, come!