My Month of Written Devotion is for the Spirit of the Santa Clara Valley
Across the Valley, Across the water
Along the line of shore or sky
Where in the waking world I ride
In dreams I walk, or fly.
The bridges yet remember trains.
The hills remember bars and parks.
The Valley weaves Her orchards
between micro-processed sparks.
I roam the memory of Land
of highways carved through astral sand
Through waters where the land has not
in dreams yet had its fill.
Where softer places shrink and grow,
only the spirit children go.
Through forest faires and drowning
carnivals, I wander still.
The winding road to ocean’s peace
beneath the towering redwood trees,
a slumbering giant, shrugs and sighs
forgetting that He’s bound.
The moonlit mountains lined with gold,
Their stories lost and left untold,
replaced by grains from far off lands
grown feral on foreign ground,
entreat in desperation mute
for aid from stronger, younger fruit
Who raise an incoherent cry
sincere, and strange, and green.
I try to understand Their pleas,
assure Them that my faith agrees
that someone must be found
of both our ways to go between.
P.S. Read Lon’s “Together”! 😀