The Ballad of Kokopelli

A strange lonely figure stares out of the past
where engraved by an artist in stone
Held firm by the sand in which he is cast,
these last thousand years quite alone.
Could he be listening, trying to hear
moccasins scuffing the butte?
Bringing the people once again near
to hear Kokopelli's sweet flute?

His image inscribed on a thousand rock faces
from east to the great western sea;
From Sonora's hot sun to the north glaciers bases,
proclaiming this loved tutelary.
Though powers possessed and methods employed
are often in open dispute;
One thing is agreed, the people did love
to hear Kokopelli's sweet flute.

This stick figure man, with a hump on his back
seemed always to cast a good feeling;
His magic perhaps, taken out of his pack
would comfort the sick and do healing.
Whatever his talents, they surely were grand,
a fact no one cares to refute,
As people would come from afar in the land,
to hear Kokopelli's sweet flute.

Kokopelli play for me,
So my heart may sing,
Magic flute of mystery,
Fruitful dreams you bring.
Song of Aztlan,
Fertile Fire,
Canyons of my mind,
Sacred union,
Heart to heart,
Speaks of the Divine.