With my windows open, I smell the sage wafting in from Peters Canyon,
Or maybe beyond.
I smell the sage and the whole history of sage and the experience of that sage.

How many coyotes have brushed against you? Or shed a rabbit’s blood on you?
How many hikers have spat upon you? Or pissed upon you?
How many wildfires have you endured? How many rains enjoyed?

Has anyone ever spoken to you?
What did they say?
And what did you say in return?

The thick summer air sticks to my skin, and you are in the air, and you are on my skin.
You are on my outside.
I breathe and you are on my inside.
You are becoming me.
I am becoming you.

Will you carry a message back of your time here with me? Tell the others what you learned of me?

I grow as you grow.
I feel as you feel.
I touch the air and feel the heat and the cold as you touch the air and feel the heat and the cold.
We see the same Sun and Moon - day and night.
We touch the same ancient soil.
We breathe the same air - you take your share and I take my share,
Then we exhale and exchange air again.

We become each other.
Your atoms are my ancestors, and mine yours.
We will both dissolve, disintegrate and disperse.
And your atoms and my atoms will no longer be your atoms and my atoms, but only atoms -
As they are even now.
Belonging to no body.
Caring for no body.
Despising no body.

A few will rejoin in the same body some day
And they will share of their adventures from the time when they were apart
And their memories of us.

#WhispersOfTheWind #nature #poetry #writco

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