Destination: Colorado Rockies

The Call of the Mountains
by Pandora Peoples

I have heard tell
That elk on your porch in the morning
Is a fertility omen,
And that mountains are capable
Of enlisting the service of wombs,
To carry the progeny of elemental beings
Who are keepers of ancient knowledge,
And stewards of the sacred lands.

I have this urge to hike up skirt
And walk due west,
Through bogs and swamps,
Until the soles of my feet have teeth
Like alligators which bare no grief,
Until weak-wading through the backyards
Of my Appalachian kinfolk ceases
And they push me
With throaty whispers for my soul to keep.

The fire in my belly burns fierce,
Shadows play with my fear like Today’s Special,
Wolf in my jaw
Pounces on some unhealthy attitude,
Drains it of blood.
With alarm I awake to my self
A Mastodon in my ribs,
Fish dares me to take an unbridled breathe.
The musky nectar of the black morning
Intoxicates every cell of my sojourning body.

I will walk the Trail of Tears
And sleep in the fields of forgotten nightmares,
Where the rubble of homesteaders grows thick with weeds.
I will listen to the ghosts of passenger trains,
Confront the battles of medicine men
Taking up arms,
And in the flickering fire of my camp before day break,
With one eye open on tomorrow,
I will touch the hands of yesterday's heroes,
Whose voices chug like engines,
Whose stories pierce like whistles,
Who punctuate my dreams with their chants,
And I will awake with the taste of tobacco in my mouth
With the sweet smell of burnt sweet grass lingering
In the chilling first light.


Up through wooded hills,
Down into moist valleys,
Shin-deep in ponderosa pine needles,
I will wash in trickling streams
Munching on rose hips,
Shavegrass and the new shoots of tender ferns,
Falcons and eagles will check in on me
From time to time
And crows will steer me away from falling rocks


I will breathe in the desert sage,
And I will light a token fire in the sand,
An offering to the bright constellations
Pulsating with life from light years away.
The fullness of my being
Will shed into the cool, smooth earth,
Fertilizing a blooming cactus nearby
With my uterine silver lining.


I will march through cornfields,
Lounge under cottonwoods,
Meander over willows leaning into lakes,
Grope through groves of Maples at midnight,
And when I reach where the Pinyon Pine
Meets the alpine tundra,
I will climb that tree
Like a koala bear,
And perching in the top branches,
I will sing
To the eerie mating calls of the elk