2010-03-22 Middle Child

Red rocks band together, forming cup-like around me.
I do not worry about what I am keeping at bay –

the coyotes, the scorpions, who I was in Ohio,
steel grey clouds in my distant sight.

But instead, I think of what is keeping warm
the muscle that is my heart.
In this sauna of sagebrush and stones,
I am rediscovering my core and it is everywhere –

in the spiral petroglyph, while its loose end gives birth
to a fossilized human, its origin is etched stone.

And in the medicine wheel,
which steered many an ancient people.
I stand in its center and think,
“cob of corn, chewed apple core, elongated spine.”

Even the basalt boulders rise up like an altar
from beneath the sandstone seams in Cathedral Rock.

All my life, the middle was a birth order defect.

But here,
I am one and whole.

Stay rooted, I tell myself.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s