Ottmar, in case you are feeling homesick for New Mexico:
A possible reason I’m charmingly quirky
Is I got myself born in old Albuquerque,
Where ancient and modern are woven together,
Where mountain and desert forge unsettling weather.
Near dwellings in ruin of Anasazi long gone,
Los Alamos brought the atomic age on.
Vast, open horizons of infinite looks
Vanish high in the Sandia, midst forests and brooks.
The first breath I drew, which I don’t really recall,
Came just before sunset, just before Fall.
I know the enchantment of this mystical place
Impassioned my soul with its wild and free grace.
The first Earthlings I met beyond Mother and Dad
Were two Navajo ladies who seemed deeply sad;
But their black velvet skirts and huge turquoise rings
To my eyes were fantastic, magnificent things.
The first meal I ate beyond milk from the breast
Was green chile with something I couldn’t digest.
I gradually learned how to relish the savor,
The spice and the zest – the New Mexican flavor.
The first sight I saw beyond Mother’s sweet eye
Was a sunset that purpled and reddened the sky
And then turned to blazes the landscape below.
The magic of that scene has never let go.
The first fragrance I knew beyond Daddy’s cologne
Was the afternoon rain filled with sage and pinion [pronounce peen-yone]
Mixed with the steam from hot earth cooled by shower.
That essence still has me embraced in its power.
Now, many years later, I constantly yearn
For New Mexico’s wonders – And I must return
To live near the spot where I first saw Earth’s light.
Beautiful!
Stunning venue…SO looking forward to a beautiful evening and another awesome OL & Luna Negra concert (Santa Barbara, 09/15). . . .
Ottmar, in case you are feeling homesick for New Mexico:
A possible reason I’m charmingly quirky
Is I got myself born in old Albuquerque,
Where ancient and modern are woven together,
Where mountain and desert forge unsettling weather.
Near dwellings in ruin of Anasazi long gone,
Los Alamos brought the atomic age on.
Vast, open horizons of infinite looks
Vanish high in the Sandia, midst forests and brooks.
The first breath I drew, which I don’t really recall,
Came just before sunset, just before Fall.
I know the enchantment of this mystical place
Impassioned my soul with its wild and free grace.
The first Earthlings I met beyond Mother and Dad
Were two Navajo ladies who seemed deeply sad;
But their black velvet skirts and huge turquoise rings
To my eyes were fantastic, magnificent things.
The first meal I ate beyond milk from the breast
Was green chile with something I couldn’t digest.
I gradually learned how to relish the savor,
The spice and the zest – the New Mexican flavor.
The first sight I saw beyond Mother’s sweet eye
Was a sunset that purpled and reddened the sky
And then turned to blazes the landscape below.
The magic of that scene has never let go.
The first fragrance I knew beyond Daddy’s cologne
Was the afternoon rain filled with sage and pinion [pronounce peen-yone]
Mixed with the steam from hot earth cooled by shower.
That essence still has me embraced in its power.
Now, many years later, I constantly yearn
For New Mexico’s wonders – And I must return
To live near the spot where I first saw Earth’s light.
Jane Parham
© 2007