Iguana: I am an iguana. I move slowly near to dear
earth. I look for her warmth midst the sun warmed rocks. Moving
forward with slow deep intention, I stretch and push my legs...
With a deliberate pace I observe, silently watching,
flicking my tongue to catch a hint on the air of what is to come.
Crow, my sister, you and I have many things in common.
Crow: I too love the silence. Yet, as much as I
love the silence, I adore punctuating it with my raucous voice as
old and cracked as the earth's boulders. Just as you I too
love to cross the face of the earth, but from a higher vantage point,
My friend. I stretch my wings out on the wind. I soar, I am lifted
higher and higher. Joyously I shatter the silence of the day with
my “caaawwww.” For you the air hints at what is to come, for me it
howls and sings news of far away places. But, your eyes and mine, my
brother, that we have in common: the round arc, the manner of our
Iguana: Yes, yes, it is in the manner of our looking that
we penetrate the veils of the here. Slowly, deliberately, without
interfering, we look. Coming to a great stillness we see by allowing
the light to come to us, and reveal her secrets.
copyright (c) 2008 Lauren Wolfman