Looking out the crown
of a yurt,
I can see the hawk
circling above
and hear the energy
of the howling wolf.
I can see my murky dreams
in the distance become clear.
I can feel the presence of the spirit
hover beside me.
As I look out the crown of a yurt,
I know I’m a part of all things
that are naturally made.
I know I’m not alone,
no matter where I go
or who I’ve been.
I can feel the soothing drumbeat
surround me,
the blueness of the Navajo sky,
the whispering winds of my ancestors
that gently guide me.
Looking out the crown of a yurt,
I can feel my life change and flow.
I can see my body gracefully age
with wrinkled dark skin
and the beauty of ancient wisdom.
©️Mft
Crow On The Wire 
Wonderful title, image, and content. I’d love to be there.
Thank you, Laura. Memories of a yoga retreat in the mountains. 🙏🏻
Lovely piece.
Thank you. 🙂
Beautiful 💖💖
https://saania2806.wordpress.com/2018/11/22/fearing-the-future/
Thank you. 🙂
You’re most welcome 😊😊
https://saania2806.wordpress.com/2018/11/22/fearing-the-future/
Reblogged this on anita dawes and jaye marie.
Thank you, Anita. 🙏🏻
Lovely delivery, Mark, but I hope that’s a window!
It was. 🙂
Oh Wow, loved this Mark. Relaxing, spiritual… Awesome!
It was all that sleeping in a yurt in the Santa Ynez mountains. 🙂
And now I’m envious 😂
🙂
I feel a deep affinity with this poem, Mark. Opening our inner eyes in peace we
can feel and see much of the beauty you write about.
” I know I’m a part of all things
that are naturally made.”
Miriam
Thank you, Miriam. I’m glad you enjoyed. 🙂
wonderfully words of ethnic roots!
Yes, the beauty of our varied cultures. Thanks, Malcolm.
Reblogged this on The Reluctant Poet.
Thanks, RP. Much appreciated. 🙂
Lovely piece and sure enlightening memories!
It was a very memorable yurt, but not the most comfortable place. Thanks, Ortensia.
Still obviously a great experience…..the non comfortable I had guessed it😉
Guardando oltre la corona
di una yurta,
Posso vedere il falco
girare sopra
e sentire l’energia
del lupo che ulula.
Riesco a vedere i miei sogni oscuri
in lontananza diventano chiari.
Posso sentire la presenza dello spirito
aleggiare accanto a me.
Mentre guardo fuori la corona di una yurta,
so di far parte di tutte le cose
che sono in natura.
So di non essere solo,
non importa dove vado
o chi sono stato.
Sento il piacevole rullo di tamburi
circondarmi,
l’azzurro del cielo Navajo,
i venti sussurranti dei miei antenati
che mi guidano dolcemente.
Guardando fuori la corona di una yurta,
Posso sentire la mia vita cambiare e fluire.
Posso vedere il mio corpo invecchiare con grazia
la mia pelle scura rugosa
e la bellezza dell’antica saggezza.
*
Dear Mark, I read your fascinating poem and translated it into Italian as you can see above. I liked it so much that I decided to propose it on my blog in a weekly column entitled “Stolen Jewels” next December 22nd. Congratulations and best regards from Italy
Thank you, and honored. Mark
thank you too
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Thank you.