Maverick Rock, Wikipedia
As I walk along this ancient land,
half-seen out of the corners of my eye.
Ahead, the midden rose,
flat-topped and far-seeing.
They say the tribe's wise ones
would gather there to discuss community affairs,
mete out restorative justice, talk strategy
for going forward.
I have reverently stood atop its plateau,
have handled the shards of old clay pots,
then set them gently back on the earth.
I have glanced up, walking down below,
to sudden glimpses of the people
of that long-gone world, going about
the business of daily living,
until the land was suddenly green and brown
and blue once more,
their alternate world disappeared
in the mists of time.
I saw its form so clearly on that day,
starkly outlined against an indigo sky.
I heard faint ululations on the wind.
But now I walk the land again,
certain this was the spot
and it is no longer here.
Only once, did it reveal itself
and those other living presences, to me,
and then no more,
transforming me forever
from who I was before.
for Hannah's prompt at Real Toads: Transforming Nature's Wonders. We are looking at Mount Roraima, and the landscape where Venezuala, Brazil and Guyana meet.