I Was a Shaman Once

As the desert sun beats down turning to ash, everything in sight, the desert wind sings mournful wailing songs for millenniums past. I stand upon the parched ground, boot heels digging into the cracks, beneath the shade of a broken down and now abandoned shell of a shack’s roof. although the weight of death seems to fill the air, the ancient energy of human presence dances around me, stronger than I’ve ever felt, leaving me light headed and swaying in the moment. I lay down upon a rickety bench, I begin to hear my name amongst the wind’s wailing songs, calling me to come home, come home, suddenly I awake feeling cleansed, rebirthed, renewed, and ready to make my way again, on my own ancient desert trail. still hearing the voices, as I walk on past time.