This month, instead of a Poetic Micro Essay, I offer you a bit of mystery
and excitement from my dreamworld with a poem that takes place
in the heart of the Gila Wilderness.
This poem first appeared in The Journal of Radical Wonder, March 28, 2023.
(Link to the journal is provided below the poem.)
Happy holidays to all of you, whatever your traditions and beliefs.
I wish you joy!

Anointed
A Dream in the Gila Wilderness
I wander alone in an alpine forest
deeper and deeper into wildness
The only sounds are the crunch of my feet
on a crisp mulch of leaves and needles
the tweets of song birds and the wind in the pines
Majestic ponderosa tower above me
I breathe their tangy sweet aroma
their soaring canopies of long needles
glint in early morning sunlight
Gnarled piñons stand as elder sentinels
twisted and filled with nutritious nuts
A raven caws from a gnarled alligator juniper
while a woodpecker hammers in the distance
I feel a presence behind me
dark, mysterious
I turn, catch sight
of a shadowy movement
in the scrub oak underbrush
a sleek, muscular form
with a velvet sheen
a once-native, seldom seen
black jaguar
Strangely, I feel no fear
even though the jaguar
is so near I can hear
her steady breathing
I walk away slowly
telling myself not to run
not to trigger her hunting instinct
I try to stay composed
She is stalking me
I come to a mountain creek
only a trickle of flow remains
from last week’s monsoon rains
I step from stone to stone
northward in the riverbed
until I arrive at a small waterfall
I ascend its rocky, moistened slope
balancing precariously between
spiky agave and pink-blooming prickly pear
aware that rattlesnakes may
rest in the shade under
the granite outcroppings
I know the jaguar still follows
this climb is no challenge
for her feline acuity
For me, it takes focus
precise movement
full attention
She could easily
overtake me
She is pacing herself
to stay behind me
I sense no maleficence
but do not look back
At the top of the falls
I step onto a flat plateau
Before me stand the ruins
of an ancient pueblo
One crumbling adobe wall
encircles a subterranean floor
and the faded memory
of sacred ceremonies
I enter the circle through
a broken place
Instinctively, I kneel
and bow my head
to the packed-earth
I wait
expecting perhaps
to be devoured
She arrives at the kiva’s edge
I smell her earthy scent
I know she’s watching
though I do not lift my head
I hear her paws land close by
in a muffled thud
She comes to me
I feel her hot breath
on the back of my neck
Before I die
I want to see her
Never look a predator
in the eyes, they say
I lift my head slowly
my eyes are open
Her wide ebony face
is inches from mine
her eyes shining
with amber fire
She rests her forehead
against my own
I close my eyes
as a warm current of energy
courses through me
Her silken fur
caresses my brow
then lifts away
She grunts softly
then gently licks my face
When I open my eyes
she is gone
I am alone, alive
anointed
Many thanks and a link to The Journal of Radical Wonder