The unknown poet writes in his notes that on his way from a trip to NorthLand back to the Fields of Dan, he chanced to stop at one of the highest and most famous of these old "bonfire hills". He writes:
"Standing there, I suddenly saw -- well, saw is not quite the right word -- felt perhaps is better! I felt something like an emotional outpouring from our common humanity in response to things which we know are coming. It hit me so solidly that it nearly knocked my breath out. I had to grab the railing to keep from falling and managed to pray (beg really) that that this lovely land, where I have spent my adult life and where my children were born -- that this land would be spared the brunt of the storms to come."
"Are prayers like that answered? I wouldn't even hazard a guess!"
"But I do know that we are all in this together and that whatever our friend, the Holy Idaho accomplished, it is still conditional on what we do today. If there is such a thing as salvation it is not determined by any ritual, sacrament or a funny feeling running up and down your spine. When it all comes down to dust, all that matters is your relationship with and what you have done in the service of our common humanity."
Standing on the "Bavnehoy"
I prayed a prayer for the Fields of Dan and her girls and boys.
Standing there, I could see so far,
as far away as the Milky Way's distant stars!
It was far enough to make even fainter
souls need to puke and call upon their saints,
you know, the guys who muddle the calendars
with their ecstasies of red and golden paints...
We're always hoping someone will come
and kiss it where it hurts, make it better and suck our thumb...
You've gotta spit that out of your mouth!
All that bitter drink, that's not what it's all about!
We're all in this together, friends
and, friends don't you see, it's all together we
are headed for eternity,
and together we bring about the happy-end -- or not!