where water is sacred

January 4, 2022

We woke before dawn in the ghost town of Terlingua, Texas. We crawled out from beneath our blankets among the rocks like lizards. Seeking the first light of the sun to bask all day long after a night under the stars. Brightness fills the desert at all angles. The last of the Milky Way spreading wide. The final glimmer of Sirius chasing Orion across the sky.

We climbed to the top of the mesa and stood looking into the horizon. Mexico waiting on the other side. Wild horses grazing nearby. The Rio Grande dividing us, uniting us, and carving out this landscape.

—

in a place where water is sacred
i watched horses drink from the Rio Grande
naked
your sound
the vibration
comes in the breeze
echoing off the mountains
through the sotol leaves
the orange butterfly’s wings
the song that you sang to me