From On Top Of Those Rocky Hills Poem by Juan Olivarez

From on top of those rocky hills,
Across the vastness of it all.
With that burning sun, I still got chills,
When I would hear God's call.

I heard his voice in the creosote,
And in the deadly Ocotillo.
In all those places far and remote,
Wherever the desert wind did blow.

Down in the washes, which were always dry,
Where golden pebbles shown so bright.
And ravens circled in the desert sky,
I heard his voice, in all it's might.

Sitting on a mountain up in the sky,
The wind would whisper in my ear.
As I watched the clouds go rolling by,
And I thrilled so, to have him near.

There's not a day that passes by,
That I don't miss my savage land.
That beautiful land both vast and dry,
Where God and I walked hand in hand.

7/12/14
ALTON TEXAS