Late night ventures into The Valley
The tail lights of vehicles flash by as instantaneous scarlet ribbons
Almost tangible, yet only captured in a frozen moment of time
The night envelops them only as soon as it can
A blanket of stars seeks to illuminate a path forward in the otherwise impenetrable darkness
Silhouettes of mountain tops, sand dunes, and creosote appear as anything but
The mind conjures imaginative demons fit for a place with Death in the name
A song plays unvaryingly throughout a rare desert night of stillness
A figure stands nearly motionless by the cacti
His time has come, two years foreseen
There is no fear in the name of The Valley
He is listening and watching the lights vanish into a distance not measurable by the eye
With a disposition akin to a well versed wanderer: calmly anticipating
This is a night fit for a romantic
Who dreams of a future boundless and unconstrained by past harm
It’s curious how feelings and emotions imprint themselves
Upon a place
A visual cue that itself alone invites a heartfelt impression
A rush of thought
The pulse of a beat steadily increased
A tide of nameless sensations
From within
Making themselves known in the dead of night
Illuminating the soul that searches for a spark
That kind which is unmistakable and known to all who have felt it
The trails of lights continue into the late hours
A time reserved for the everyday philosopher
Is it not equally as fascinating
That the same place imprinted upon
Can also itself be
A source of liberation
From what is not meant to last
Thoughts, feelings, and emotions that are no longer serve needed
A sense of self that has evolved to become much greater than before
All is provided by thoughtful intention
In harmony with place
A landscape once made harsh in the mind’s eye
Can be transformed with gratitude
For the lessons learned and soul repaired
Layers of meaning solidify like clay once molded to the heart’s desire
Making reality, both conscious and not, into a rich tapestry of experience
Understood by those who are willing to feel it too
Just beyond the crest of a mountain pass he waits
For that which is known in quality and quantity
But not in time
Some wait their whole lives
Others hardly more than they can stand to
The elements need not worry
The serene grace of Fall is left unbothered
By the contemplation of an intrinsic human need
Lasting into eternity
The snow is steadily melting
The water quenches the thirst of the land
Desire remains in the mind of the figure
Wondering aloud
What matters in the after-hours of a November day
Time and space is sought
As a means to expand the entirety of thought
To let perception wander aimlessly
And to allow dreams a chance at fruition
The Night looks inward, into the far recesses of self
The figure remains shrouded
Within the grasp of that which is both known and unknown
Why this self ritual is important only he will ever know
A connection is established forevermore
Seeped in that peculiar sense that people have
And only occasionally notice
The intersection of time, place, and personal intimacy
A chill creeps forth in the dry air
Matching that which is felt internally
Gazing up at the unencumbered display of the heavens
The roof of the world so clearly displayed
Like a pond still and undisturbed
Until a stone meeting the surface causes ripples to break the facade
A memory of meteors streaking at unimaginable speeds
Across this very same night sky
Bestows gratitude upon the beholder
For a lifetime
In human terms that is
Is it not also curious
How time moves at a unique pace for everything in existence
For the cholla cactus, desert foxes, and even the stars
All exist in their own relative time
Unbeknownst to us
Even the figure
Unfazed by the lateness of the hour
Perched still, awestruck at the simple magic persistent in this moment
The only knowledge he now claims
Is intuitive in its origin
Not derived from any other source
A sense that one is at a certain place
The moment they are meant to be there
Clarity comes at no less a cost
Than following one’s intentions
In this night a dream unfolds
Unrealized by those drifting off in their tents a distance away
Nor by piercing through the thickening darkness
Those ribbons of light constituting
An incidental moment of creation
Illuminating a much desired path forward
The figure moves, jarring forward
Into the night as the music fades
The landscape continues on restlessly
Its lone admirer
Hung up for the night
Yet liable to return
To make the same pilgrimage
With significance renewed
With newfound meditations
With unyielding love and gratitude in his heart
For a place that has given so much to him.
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