There’s a place I went, when I was just something of a kid, a Cibola somewhere south, where spirits in the Chaco speak to only those who know, that earth is in the bow, of a terrestrial time. When daemons will not still their selves and they will fly to Santé Fe, on the seven rocks, they will lay. I have heard them when I drove 371 South through the nomenclature wars. I heard them when I drove through judgement to Santé Fe. Those words, modern man, does not know what they are for, and what those whispers say. Oh and here in Chaco Canyon clear, once upon a time when I was just by myself, the seven altars stood, and those rocks in all their witch hood, rained down fire from all the sky, upon my soul. And Santé Fe you took me, I cried, and declared I would not die, before I walked beyond the door. Those Rocks of legend, fire and before, of destiny, they took away my pride, brought me down to beyond, pure Christian pride. Right inside me while Jesus died, the peace and calm, from the deserts dawn, I became Santé Fe. I might be seventeen, and so withdrawn, but I know, of what is true, golden light insight my love for you, Santé Fe.
Took me upon the desert floor, took me upon the granites door, to where the sandstone carved my eyes, took me inside, made me Chaco’s bride, then I saw Santé Fe, Santé Fe! There some say, New Mexico has swum away, upon some sand, or some tide, desert specters haunt some minds, but not mine, no not mine. For I have found an old home. A place in the desert, hearts can come to cry, I was there when Chaco Canyon spun from the sky, I was only seventeen when I died, then I rose in Santé Fe, my true boyhood, rose in play, Anasazi, moonlight play, while all around the wind and ghost do relay. Holy Ghost, or special play, I am risen here by the weather or a whim. Upon the seven rocks Cibola lays, her legs stretched to catch my wanton eyes that stray. Here in the desert I come to lay, and I rise, rise to say. I’m alive, my mind is alive in Santé Fe.
And oh just like the boyhood dream of seventeen in 1978, I will fly, by myself in Chaco Canyon to the seven altars, there I will find holy faith, Santé Fe.
Santé Fe means “Holy Ground”. This is written in memory of a solitary June trip to Chaco Canyon when I was seventeen! – 06.25.2016 – דָּנִיֵּאל
Unbeliveably eerie, and wild. You write like a wild man! 🙂
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Wow a wild man you say! That’s encouraging. Thank you Charlie. 🙂
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LOL! 😉 Your funny too!!!
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This is fantastic! I love this Daniel. More like it please…..
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Thank you Raquel, very happy you liked it.
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Wonderfully written!
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Thank you Ruby!
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You know each piece you write gets better and better. This was WOW category. So mystical and surreal. I loved it.
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Thank you, I was trying to get the mystery and surreal taste, without getting to strange. Sometimes that happens with me. 😉
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You achieved a great balance here, I used to read your stuff, and think, its great writing, but can’t be real. Now I believe it’s real so there is that.
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Oh, I wouldn’t get to carried away on the real stuff. Could be a bit of reality here and there. 😉
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Do not disappointment me Mr! Seriously there is no way to make this stuff up. 🙂
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This one really blew me away Daniel. You must of had some kind of childhood. This was John Carpenter stuff. Great writing.
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You were thinking of Carpenter’s “Vampires” right?
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OMG! How did you ever know that? :0
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Oh New Mexico desert I saw it too. 😉
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That is unbelievable! I have shivers right now.
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Outstanding!
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Thanks much Brooke! 🙂
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This is wicked it’s so good. 🙂
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Thanks Heather. Wicked good, ooooor wicked bad. 😉
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Funny, you know it strikes a little bit in each category. Both sides appeal to me! ❤
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Beautifully written and so haunting.
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Thank you Olivia!
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Your very welcome. You really describe haunting scenes well.
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A chilling good write Daniel.
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Thank you for reading and your comment. I like the chilled affect! 😉
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Once again you have done it. This sir is worthy to read by candlelight.
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Thanks Bill, I always value your feedback. I am so happy you liked it.
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Daniel, this is lovely and beautifully written. I like your use of “seven” throughout. My favorite line is spectacular, “A place in the desert, hearts can come to cry, I was there when Chaco Canyon spun from the sky, I was only seventeen when I died, then I rose in Santé Fe, my true boyhood, rose in play, Anasazi, moonlight play, while all around the wind and ghost do relay.” Thank you for a wonderful read. Please take good care and enjoy the day. ~ Mia
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Hi Mia, I’m thrilled you commented. You picked up the sevens, which I hadn’t really thought about. I’m usually into sixes! 😉 You have given me a lot to mull over. 🙂 You have a great day too.
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Mythical and filled with boyhood grandeur!
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Thank you Karen. 🙂
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This is fantastic. Almost like being there. 🙂
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Thank you Dawn, I hoped to take anyone who read it there, just in their own individual way. 😉
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