Can Perspective Change the Truth?
A. A. Wolfner.
I was sitting all too alone in the shade of a small yellow pinyon tree at the River’s edge. An overpowering urge to speak welled up from my tightening gut. Two months of silence had begun to unsettle the place where my neck joins my skull, at the top of my back. My joints and jaws ached for activity. I tried to remember those words I should have spoken before leaving the Camp.
“Ilwana-la,” I should have said, “my heart would gladly give you all the health of my body. My tongue would only speak about the sweet blue water of life. My eyes would only reflect happiness that I feel when I see you.” However, I had not spoken those words.....