The Slow Migration Of Glaciers
Jewel Kilcher
The slow migration of glaciers
unfolding through the centuries
their heavy wing
burdened with all the
weight of the earth
they move and carve and breathe
swollen rivers thick with soot
my pony and I drawing
deep sharp breaths
as we cross
submerged
in all that is natural and Holy
To run free with you once more
to let my hair tangle itself
in a wind that knows only motion
to lose my heart once again
in the thorns of primrose
on the plains of Fox River Valley
lost in a maze of Timothy and Blue Grass hay.
These are the things which made me
these are the things I call home
these are the things that have filled
my heart with song and I raise them now in homage:
my father and I riding until after dark
chasing cattle or startling eagles into flight
cooking on a coal stove
cutting meat with a dull knife
my hands raw from picking rose hips
on the sea cliffs above Kackamack Bay
staring endlessly at the blue sky...
Few would guess now how much I miss
you Alaska
how my heart grows
heavy out here
so far away
So much talk
so much noise
strangling all stillness
so I can no longer
hear the voice of god whisper
to me in the silence
I will return to you, Alaska,
my beloved, but for now
I am youth’s soldier
chasing down
an endless dawn
