Don’t be coy, coyote.
You’re welcome here.
Keep singing, come near.

The ancestors danced when I visited the desert.
White plumage swept from playa up toward sky,
coating me in a soft white.

And when sun dipped below the horizon,
the coyote told me a secret.
He told me I live in the most beautiful place on Earth.
He told me I live inside my heart.

(This morning I woke up after a night spent camping solo in Black Rock Desert, Nevada. Earlier in the evening, I heard coyotes howling in the distance. I listened intently to their song carrying across the flat playa from somewhere in the hills. I wished they would come closer. I had had a long, grueling day in terms of emotions. Company other than my own thoughts were appreciated. My heart song sang back to them. At around 1am, I woke to the sounds of howling just outside my camper. The entire pack had come to visit me in the middle of the desert. I sat in awe and listened to what they had come to tell me.)

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