Altar Rock
by Alloday
Printed in The Flowering Tree, Winter 2001
I walked along the trail
In the footsteps of my friend
To minimize destruction
Of the moss that never ends.
We reached the Rock - the Altar,
The magic set in stone.
The place of Peace and Beauty.
Where each could be alone.
To think, to be, to enter,
Into Silence with the Rock.
To listen to our Mother,
To fly with soaring Hawk.
To gaze across the valley,
Through brush and tree and stone,
Toward far off bluffs in haze of blue -
We're really not alone.
The Rock we call the "Altar"
Stands high above the rest.
Or should I call it "Alter"?
For it brings me to my best.
