I am beholden to the Black Hills of South Dakota,
The land of my upbringing.
I remember winter there, with the blowing snow blizzards
And the feathery snowflakes gently floating along the hillsides.
We would take innertubes, metal or wooden sleds or whatever we could find to
Challenge our very bodies and minds to speed down the
Snow packed hills. Your soul is truly free once you’ve tried this!
And the summers in the Hills were no less memorable. We’d bask in the
Hot summer sun, down by Rapid Creek and dip our toes into the cool water before
We’d float down the river. These experiences and so many more are some
Of the precious gifts the Black Hills has given me.
Home to the Lakota Sioux and forever sacred ground;
The Lakota certainly knew as I try to grasp now,
That the Black Hills don’t shift according to your schedule.
They don’t shake and tremble with your fears
Or your grief or your sorrow.
They remain as majestic and luminous as they have ever been.
They hold space for you to come back to them
To honor them to appreciate their beauty and comfort.
As my mind turns over now all the glorious times
I’ve spent in their Presence,
I only hope that maybe someday I can embody the grace
And redemption that they have to offer.
May I find my way back into their fold to be held and reminded
That I am at home or at least I am a welcome visitor.
