Beautiful mountains standing straight, reaching for
the sky, clouds filling every part of the atmosphere.
Saguaros straight, at attention, looking from atop the
mountain like sentries standing guard over Pioneer
Village.
Texture flowing down the mountain, brush, cacti, rocks,
all finding a place where they can fulfill nature and
it's awesome ability to look and show us it's essence.
Nothing to compare with this scenery of Arizona, as I
sit and write of it from a picnic table here in Pioneer
Village.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem