Leave a comment

Inspired By Lyrics #7 (Remembering My Birth)


He was born in the summer of his 27th year
Coming home to a place he’d never been before
He left yesterday behind him, you might say he was born again
You might say he found a key for every door
~John Denver, Rocky Mountain High

I distinctly remember being born in the Spring of my 26th year. It was the morning after a two day, 1400 mile drive. I arrived in the black of a moonless night and set my tent up with the help of a flashlight but mainly by feel for I had erected this temporary shelter countless times. The anticipation of the morning kept kicking me out of a restful sleep. Early morning birdsong drew me out of the little sleep I finally achieved. I crawled out of my tent just before sunrise and watched the rising sun gradually caress the impossibly shaped, red painted monoliths in golden morning light.

I felt an instantaneous affinity with this creation molded by the hand of the ultimate artist. It was the first time I laid eyes upon the grandeur of the Red Rock wonderland at Arches National Park in Southeastern Utah yet I felt I had finally arrived home after a long journey. I experienced an intense visceral connection with the stark land. It was a 2nd birth day for I was born into a home in which I experienced an overwhelming spiritually connection.

I have been back there at least a 1/2 dozen times, the most recent with my wife the week we were married. Each time I arrive, I feel an awakening of my deep rooted connection to this land. It is a coming home party, a coming home to mother, re-entry into the birth canal, exiting again, naked again, born again. Every time I feel weighed down by the accumulated grunge of life, I return. The grunge gets scrubbed away by the blowing red sand as I lay naked on the red rock beneath the intense light of the Southwestern sun. By the time I leave, I feel renewed, rejuvenated, refreshed, reinvigorated, revitalized, revived, restored, re-energized, reborn.

My desire is to have this land be my final resting place. If not my shell laid beneath the sun directly on the red rock where the flesh will feed critters then my ashes scattered over the land to become forever intermixed with the red sand. It seems only fitting that I be laid to rest at the place I feel most connected to eternity.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

Atoms of Thought

Essays on travel, identity, literature, and philosophy.

Evelina

by Evelina Di Lauro

THE OBSESSIVE WRITER

Because life is too overrated to ignore

Milly Schmidt

The Cat's Write

BLEEDING THOUGHTS !!

"My words are my identity"

she's a seeker

Currently, NYC

Inside my cellar

Watch closely as an author thoughts unveil truths through a vision that was once mere premonition. Thoughts From A balcony inside the minds of the intuitive

STREET x SPREZZA

Vintage Style and Modern Tailoring

Wolff Poetry | Poetry, Tools & Resources for Self-Publishing Writers

Wolff Poetry offers poetry, and tips that make writing & self-publishing easier. Linda J. Wolff mentors young writers.

Heartstring Eulogies

Conjured by Sarah Doughty

Srijana Kattel

Ramblings of an empty mind

Travelling around the world

Traveller, photography

ishanlin.wordpress.com/

All images © I-Shan Lin

TESSEROLOGY

A MOSAIC OF BITS AND PIECES ON TRAVEL, LIFE AND TIMES

leaf and twig

where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry

Lipstick on a Pig

The Sartorial Explorations of a Middle Aged Man

%d bloggers like this: