Fish Creek Revisited   

Whispering winds call to those who listen,
carrying voices in the middle of the night.
It makes no difference if one is lost
in thought, wondering, imagining, just thinking.
Sometimes these voices bring answers;
other times only more questions are found.
But this can't be done just anywhere;
it must be deep in the wilderness,
far away from the craziness of the city,
far away from all distractions, to be alone,
one person in the desert, maybe a long drive,
but one well worth it once there.
But why again here when it has failed
once before ... a hope it won't this time.

To try Fish Creek again, once more, a last time,
in need of answers that should be found here,
but so far away though it calls late at night
to follow the highways leading east,
pedal to the metal, racing to get away
before it is too late to find herself again.
Closer it looms once the dirt road is reached,
a winding, narrow road, a blue highway;
she takes its many curves at high speeds,
impatient to get there, to hike in, to disappear.
No one knows she is here; no one was told.
Always a sporadic decision it has been
to go there, to escape, to look for answers,
those that should be found here at Fish Creek.

Finding the same turn out, early morning.
greets her arrival, making it easier
to discern a path down into the canyon,
floating down from the road, in a total trance
since by this time this journey
has been made so many times before.
It is one that could be made even blind,
though there is a certain blindness involved,
just not one of sight, but of feelings,
those that need to be dealt with and dispersed
in the four directions, leaving this soul clean
to find meaning in life, to live once again,
not hampered by memories of the past,
but looking only to the future, one of solitude,
a life with no pain, no memories, only one
to continue to exist as an individual spirit.

Life is all around but not noticed,
not this time either. Again it is a quest for
those long sought after answers, help, to put all aside.
All seems like a dream, like many times before,
knowing the heat is there but not feeling it,
knowing danger lurks but not noticing.
What guides her here once again?
Is it the ever present wolf spirit
that always follows her every move,
or is it the many spirits who dwell here?
Something must watch over her,
something must protect her
for she cares not what she may encounter
here in this canyon, this one
that pulls her like a magnet.

All she cares is that these feelings be released,
that no disturbances appear in her quest for this peace.
Following the dry riverbed, further in she hikes
as the sun moves across the sky, looking for a spot,
one place to begin her prayers, one place to feel safe.
What distance must she go to find this?
For what seems an eternity, she continues
to make her way, quietly, lost in thought,
still noticing absolutely nothing around her,
but then she stops, screams to the sky,
begging release, begging peace, begging calm.
Will the spirits listen this time, and
give her the help so long desired?
This scene returns to one of the past,
as she makes her way through the canyon.

Thoughts boggle her mind, racing everywhere,
looking to escape, but can they? This time
it has to work, all must be released,
a feeling of numbness must be found,
one needed for survival, for peace,
but the same things begin to cloud her mind,
forcing her to stop dead in her tracks,
to cry out, begging release yet again, but not finding it.
Will she be able to find it this time?
With a new urgency she picks up her pace,
looking again for that one place deep in the canyon.
She feels it must be close,
her sixth sense working again,
then suddenly it looms ahead, beckoning to her,
up on a ledge far off the canyon floor.

She begins her ascent, still not mindful of anything
around her. But this is her place. Why should she?
Finally reaching the top of the ledge, she stands,
looks to the sky again, and calls to the spirits,
then falls silent, deep in thought, shuddering
though the heat of the day continues.
On this ledge will she remain until the answers
she seeks finally come, perhaps this time.
Soon the sunset arrives, bathing the sky
in a myriad of colors, pinks, purples, yellows,
all the colors of the rainbow as the clouds drift
across the sky once so clear and vibrant blue,
becoming darker with the onset of dusk,
the north star appearing through a porthole in the clouds.
She lies back on the ledge to watch the night sky.

For the first time, she calls a name.

Soon stars fill the sky, little worlds so far away,
to be on one of those worlds, far away from here,
would being there bring her the peace she so desires?
With the life at Fish Creek awakening
at the coming darkness, thoughts turn
in another direction caused by the demise of another.
But even the sadness that involves others cannot
help her shake these feelings still overwhelming
though a person's mortality is pondered now.
Strange the thoughts that come to mind
at the the taking of a life long before its time.
Impossible to focus on what brought her there,
she now dwells on the subject, wondering
about her own mortality. How long will she exist?
Will she be here always for another who depends on her?

But she whispers a name.

A sleepless night is followed by still another day.
She watches the sun rise in the clear blue sky,
and marvels at all the colors that accompany it.
Her thoughts have turned again from her mortality
to the matter at hand, to release these feelings
still filling her mind, her heart, her spirit.
Looking within for the answers now,
she stares off into the expanse of wilderness below,
but sees nothing, only feeling the emptiness
that has become her constant friend.
The ache leaves a hollow feeling inside,
one from which she wants release
but can't seem to find. not before, not now.
How long will this go on? How long must she stay?
Will she find the answers sought for so long?

And she calls out his name.

Unlike before, she remains in this spot,
hoping this will bring relief from all her woes.
A sound is heard though she doesn't realize
she is humming as she draws her knees to her chest,
and rocks, staring blankly off into space,
only there in body but not in mind. Where is she?
The humming continues but changes to a soft moan
as the emptiness rips at her heart and spirit,
filling her with waves of pain coming much like
the waves that roll into the beaches at home.
All day she sits like this and begins to rock harder
to bring comfort perhaps, or to cover those waves
as they follow one another, causing her to shudder
once again, but more so, and this in the heat of the day.
No thought of food or drink comes to mind at all.

But she whispers a name.

Dusk finds its way back into the canyon, filling it
with the aura of a never land, a place far away
but yet so near. And still she rocks on this ledge,
but suddenly stands, raising her arms to the sky
to cry out for release. These cries are answered
by others of the canyon, wondering what is this
that has pierced the calm? What makes this sound
though it sounds like some wounded animal?
This sound continues, reverberating off the canyon walls
for what seems an eternity but then stops, and
silence again comes from that ledge as she still stands,
a little closer to the edge, taunting danger,
yet searching for something that is not there.
Then the natural sounds of the canyon
begin again, breaking the heavy, ghostly silence.

And she cries out a name.

Sitting on the edge of the ledge,
legs dangling, swinging in the air,
she watches the movement seen in the shadows
on the canyon floor, thinking perhaps she should
be there, on solid ground, though she has lost
all sense of feeling, fear, caring for what is to come next.
But there is a little something way back in her mind
that keeps her from attempting the descent,
something that calls to her in need
to come home, but she can't leave this place, not yet.
She has not found her answers, her inner peace. Here
she must stay until they come to be worth anything
for anyone else. Desperately she continues
her silent quest for these answers, this balance.
It must come soon. She calls out again for help.

And she calls out a name.

Soon comes the bewitching hour as the full moon
shows his face in the dark sky, and so begins
another night here at Fish Creek, patiently waiting,
praying now for the answers to come soon.
It has been six days and six nights though
it has felt as if all time had stopped, doing little
to refresh herself through water, and only that.
But that was gone half way through her stay,
and now she knows she must find something
to replace it, but sits there and does nothing.
Suddenly she sees what she thinks is a white wolf,
straining her eyes to see if it is only a hallucination,
peering up at her as she hunches over the side
of her ledge. It seems to be calling to her,
telling her to descend, to join it in its journey.

Looking in its eyes, she whispers a name.

With the same urgency she felt at her arrival,
her descent begins to try to catch up with this
beautiful white wolf, feeling a kinship, a closeness,
something that is totally indescribable but real,
thinking it may have her long sought after answers,
that it may be the messenger to bring her release.
Afraid she'll lose it, she quickens her step but
loses her footing, stumbles, and begins to fall,
yet something reaches out and catches her,
helping her to regain her footing, saving her
from certain death once again as the last time.
But is it really this? Has this all been real?
It seems as if seven days and nights have passed.
But this jolt shakes her out of her reveries,
bringing her back to consciousness, to reality.

And as she awakens, she calls out a name.



the wolf is my messenger






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copyright © March 11, 2000, by louve14
last revised 24 december 2002
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