Archive | May 2021

Silence

5/24/21 I wrote this piece 11 years ago. I still live in this same place and have come home to stay. The night sky is still dark and even last night the coyote spoke to me, waking me from my slumber in my camper with the door left open to the night. The bed in the house will be vacant until winter returns, I prefer the outside and my feral nature requires it. Some things will never change.

May 20, 2010

Nogal House

Indian Divide, New Mexico

Silence

I have become much as some feral creature, reliant on the silence for my safety and my peace of mind. Just as I am drawn to the complete darkness which can only be found when the moon rises late and only stars light the sky, so I find comfort in the same. Is this what pulls me to the Plains of San Agustin, making even my own familiar haunt a questionable shelter? Sure this is still my home but I am pulled away from it by some new temptation, a memory of something more which cannot be replicated here for it was stolen away many years ago. I am civilized, yes, but my deeper spirit calls for release and she languishes in the shelter of my soul. She gazes out but squints at the bright lights across the highway. She craves the dark silence that only the remote places can offer her.

What of those dark silent nights along the highway, so many years ago? I was hitchhiking through Montana and Wyoming, crossing the Great Divide where I made camp on the roadside in the trees and was as far removed from all I had known as I had ever been in my lifetime. Ah yes, she was a feral creature then as well, most especially when she was curled deep in her sleeping bag hidden from the world but equally so when she stood beside the roadway and waited for a ride. She still speaks to me, as do the canyons and the coyotes which call me off in the same way as those long narrow chasms do when I pass through remote places. I must wonder if they will release me and allow me to return!

Silence, it surrounded me late last night when I returned home, and once again in the darkness when I stepped back out my door. The chill is unnoticed at such times when the glow of the Milky Way is splashed across the sky and the breeze is but a whisper. The night birds chirp softly and the owl calls, waiting for an answer. When I am truly blessed there will come along a solitary howl of a coyote from some far canyon……….calling me home. I am done with all the rest it seems even as I try to cling to some sense of convention. I am struggling with it now. The pull of the wilderness has always been there and it draws me away but this is different, deeper and more solemn, more important than it was in the past for it is a pure element of my survival. As the material things matter less and less so I am pulled further away from them and all that is required for their attainment. What was nearly lost is once more found and abounds in the silence which surrounds me.

Summer Storms

May 13, 2021

Nogal House

Indian Divide, New Mexico

 Summer Storms

Dawn rested soft clouds

On the peak of the Vera Cruz

Morning wind came

And swept them away

Dispersing precious moisture

And stealing hopes of rain

Yet still the air is cool

And moist with prayed for storms

Lifting our spirits

Above the drought

And sending tendrils of hope

From the heart of the yucca

Aching to flower

For the bring summer storms

I woke early to watch the clouds race through the morning sky while the heavier fog lay still on the mountain top. It is always heartening to see the mountain peaks cloaked in moisture and this morning it settled deep into the canyons to the east, only to disperse with the rising of the sun. Still, there was moisture enough for it to be there, and it makes me hopeful that some distant storm will bring a trace of rain to these thirsty hills. Drought has become the norm here and the threat of fire is omnipresent. It is a recent memory rather than a great concern. It all could have burned here but it didn’t. We were saved by a late winter storm that surely won’t repeat itself. Next time we may not be so lucky, and next time will be soon enough if it doesn’t rain. It isn’t raining, but there were clouds. We will pray for summer storms.

If Not Now, When

If Not Now, When?

                  By Cathie R. Eisen

There are times in our lives when we come to the realization that if we are to ever do something we need to get on with the doing. I have journaled all of my life and many years ago began to tailor those musings into essays with the intention of publishing them. Ten years ago I wrote a full length book and tried to publish it, only to discover that one must be known writer before they can get published. Ever since then I have been building my platform, first with a Blog, adventureasaconstant.com and then open mic venues. In 2019 I realized it was time to publish those essays which had been so well received and I compiled my book, ‘If Not Now, When?’. Now, with a poetry collection in the works, it is time to share my book with a wider audience! Copies are available for $20.00 at my gallery in Carrizozo, New Mexico, ‘Carrizo Spring Trading Post’ or you can email me at carrizospringtradingpost@gmail.com. I will also have a book signing soon! Thank you! Cathie R. Eisen

Outside

May 8, 2021

Nogal House

Indian Divide, New Mexico

 Outside

I slept outside last night

Closer to the elements

And closer to the sky

I pushed open the back door

And left it open to the night

Allowing the wind and the sky

To surround me

With cool breathe and bright stars

Celestial defined

And I rediscovered a part of me

That has been sheltered and confined

Her feral grace came quickly

The coyotes howled my name