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New creed

November 2, 2008

It’s winter but it’s warm.

There’s no snow on the ground, but jingle bells play across the plateau.  My dog’s collar tags clink together as she jumps and sniffs and bounds, unaware of the blood that has spilled beneath her feet. 

A land before time.  A land of red rock and green pine and sweet sage in a state famous for its dinosaur trails and dinosaur creeds.

Live for the land.  For love.

But few live for either any more.

Outside these hills, greed carries force.  Not greed for greed’s sake, but greed to hide fear.  Fear that one will lose what one never had.  Happiness. 

Children play in the valley below.  In a yard strewn with trailers, toys, trash, and a dozen cars, they throw a football, chase a dog.  Across from the casino and next to the cemetery, which is next to the college and across from the church.

Living for an old creed in a New World leaves us, me and this people, in between.  In between times, in between cultures, in between rocks and hard places.  In between communities and commodities.  In between love for the land and loss of the land.  In between sacrifice for our families and sacrifice of our families.  To alcohol.  To drugs.  To car wrecks.  To far away places where fulfillment is sought but needs never meant.

Because the need is for the clock to stop.  For time to allow us to stand still, to breathe, to listen to the songs of the hills and the songs of our hearts.  To live by that creed under which we were born.

            To live for the land.  To live for love.

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One Comment
  1. Beautiful, cara minha filha.

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