We walked on a rattlesnake’s back,
Through Gates Pass,
Up to the Monastery of the Saguaros.
When we came to the crossroads,
We turned west.
There we found towering priestesses convened
with thorny arms up-raised,
Crowned with dazzling golden auras,
Exalting the morning sun.
The path terminated at a prayer circle.
At the feet of the High Priestess
I crouched in the dust,
Praying to see through her veil.
Then I opened the urn
To return her sister to the land.
The particles of her body
Rejoined the Sonoran sand.
Catherine Brooks, 2018
Photo: Georgi Ivanov