Travelogue: sacred land

The plaque said the Lakota people knew this to be sacred land and all at once, some would want to discredit this and all I want to do is stand under this fierce wind and whisper, holy.

Holy, in the painted hills that shine under the sun.  Holy, in green, gold, burnt sienna, and copper. Holy,  as the land dips and rises.
Holy, as the cattle roam.  Holy, as the wind sweeps up every living thing and marks us as known.

I am certain these people knew a profound truth that all of creation cries out and we've done all we can to silence its song. Give me more of this, show me your ways. Lend me your ancient wisdom.

Do you hear it? Out here it's deafening.