At a museum once
I saw an exhibit
About exploration in the far north
The people built cairns
Which gave orientation
to a blinding, white landscape
Provided a point for the eyes to land on
And a place to leave messages for travelers
To come
In the woods I search out old walls
Tumbled remnants of farm life
Boundary markers
Evidence of the difficult dance of agriculture
In a place so rocky
Houses made of stone
Invite me in
I feel protected
Cradled
With walls made of earth
I can let down my guard
For all their unyielding nature
There is something in stones
That feels strong yet soft
Like motherhood
Like sweetgrass
Like owl feathers
Stonework holds us
Gives us boundaries
Connects us to the ancient
Moves us outside of time
Until we stand, shimmering
Alongside the eternal
