Wenatchee Valley

(Big Harry’s Song)

 

When I rise up in the morning the clouds are still asleep

Nestled in the cradle of that fairest valley so deep

And as the sun peeks over the mountain the flowers all raise their heads

As if to say “Good morning! The whole day lies ahead”

Bright balsamroot and mule’s ear set the hills afire

While a thousand other wild things ignite my heart’s desires

 

Wenatchee Valley to me is calling like Coyote howling at the moon

But like that river’s rolling waters I’ll be leaving here too soon

 

The doves mourn out the morning—wild turkeys prance and call

And the chipmunks stomp the Blessings Dance at the Eastern Cascades Ball

Now a white tail waves in passing and more dancers come and go

While the sun rides up across the sky as if to watch the show

Warm winds pick up the tempo and the day keeps quite abreast

Until at last the sun retires to let the valley rest

 

Wenatchee Valley to me is calling like Coyote howling at the moon

But like that river’s rolling waters I’ll be leaving here too soon

 

In that lingering liminality after sunset before the night

Before the moon gets out of bed and Orion retakes his flight

I sit silently and ponder while I walk between the worlds

As the first bright star illuminates twilight thickens and unfurls

And like this land of paradox where the bunchgrass meets the sage

I may grow old in body but my soul will never age

 

Wenatchee Valley to me is calling like Coyote howling at the moon

But like that river’s rolling waters I’ll be leaving here too soon

 

 

Thomas Hubbard (5/28/08)

<