Your ghost found me today, alone, on our dusty canyon trail.
I knew you by the smell of stale cigarettes and Ralph Lauren perfume, mingling, unexpected, with baking earth, wildflowers, and sage. The wild wind carried your laughter; my favorite one…the real one, from before our world fell in burning ash around us.
I walked with that laughter for a while, finding peace in the hum of insects, the stirring desert brush and the distant beat of stories told long ago.
I stopped and lingered for a few moments in the meager shade of a mesquite tree, wondering over a family of wildflowers growing recklessly around a patch of Prickly Pear. Perhaps the heat of our Texas sun was to blame, but I heard you whisper, in the rustling branches near my ear…
Wasn’t that always us? One wild and untamed and free with her colors….The other armed; daring the reckless to brave her sting, should they venture too close.
Tears threatening, I pushed on to our place. You know the spot. The shady one, flanked on one side by a wall of worn red canyon and on the other, by the rare flow of rushing water and trees filtering the blaze from above.
The one where I left you to rest.
That’s when you reminded me, of a truth long buried; your voice bubbling up from the creek, catching a ride on a surprisingly cool breeze….
You were born of wild, untamed color, My Child… and of free spirits and laughter and red earth.
It’s time to shed your sting.
It’s time to bloom in reckless places.