For Rod Coronado
An Easter
memory of a lifetime
a grand bloom of wildflowers
in
Sabino Canyon among the
gaint saguaro.
Around each winding bend
is a bunch of new exciting
flowers,
purple-blue lupines, desert
bluebells and marigolds--
a variety of different
shapes, textures, and
colors.
There are bushes with
paper-like blossoms
rejoicing in their natural
habitat of diversity.
These flowers
will never fade in my
ceaseless memory
for the nature trail was
a walk in a desert heaven.
The gentle spring breeze
blowing the petals
with a motion that makes
the Earth waves of life.
Bees gathering pollen
make humming sounds
that makes us believe
we too are part of their
hive.
Sabino Canyon sparkles
like a living jewel of
purple butterflies, mating
dragonflies, and humming
birds.
The experience
was a moment recorded
in my mind
that could be recalled
the second of my final
breath,
the pain of transition
relieved by an Easter
memory
of yellow Brittlebrush
in full bloom on the cacti
hill.
The cardinal pair sing
to each other
flying from rocks to trees.
I see you ahead of me
on the
trial wading across the
stream.
We embrace each other
as I repent
for all the wrong thoughts
and actions
I’ve committed to
others on this holy world.
We need
the wilderness memories
renewing itself as an
ever-evolving reality.
Only a year ago the park
was closed Easter Sunday.
Mountain lions were spotted
and a hunt was on by the
Arizona Fish and Game
Department because they
thought
lions might scare tourists
as they search for food
further down from the
mountain tops.
The thought of a place
were mountain lions are
free
to roam turned into a
shooting ground for the
feral creatures
who were at home among
the bloom of Mexican gold
poppies.
As we turned
the final bend, through
the canyon crevices
we see the city sprawled
to the edge of the park
border.
The eternal spring stops
outside the park gates,
traffic whizzing by and
the dream
of wild flowers is replaced
by asphalt streets,
polluted air, nuclear
weapons, and all the terrorizing
realities of day to day
life in modern cities.
We can no longer hear
the buzz of the bees
or smell the fragrance
of Parry’s Penstemon,
a bell-shaped magenta-colored
flower.
Heaven is traded for houses
guarded
by electronic surveillance
devices.
Bladderpods and Globemallows
by the thousands
have been destroy for
landscaped suburban lawns.
People’s
souls are chained to the
mainstream television
as
the peak bloom of a perfect
weather day passes by.
The walk among the Owl
clover in the natural
wonderland
made our bond to save
our beautiful spiritual
partnership
with ourselves and nature
for life-times to come
even stronger.
I think of the souls like
Rod Coronado who
risked his freedom to
save the freedom of the
pumas.
Officials arrested him
for attempting to disrupt
the death hunt.
My heart
aches to be part of a
movement to stop encroachment,
to stop the cancer that
is inflicting our land
with isolated
neighborhoods and strip
malls that makes Earth
into a living hell,
In hell there is no eternal
spring…
There is only extinction
of millions of plants
and animals species…
one by one, gone never
to return, not silence
spring,
but the death of spring.
Defenders of the Earth
are heroes….
To imprison them is sabotage
of the life force within
us.
We will not be human unless
we stand up to the bulldozers
renewing our commitment
as a whole society to
find a way to live
as part of their hive,
for without them, we will
not survive.