Present

[Leanne]

Excellent revision, well done!  A few points to consider below.  

This is only the novice forum so we're not getting down to absolute nitty-gritty, but from what we've seen, you're perfectly capable of throwing your next poem into Serious with the big kids

Edit 1-

Valley of Fire, Red Rock, Seven Sisters.
Hallowed sites of this new home
lush with alliteration and untapped adventure,
devoid of the emerald blanket of life -- I do think this needs the "but" to work best as a comparison
now only in the corners of my self.

Intangible in farness, 
ever present in ensuing doubt.
See what you have tossed aside.
The origin site, rolling with the rushing water of life.
Veiled to you once more.

Time, space, promise, hope.
Ideas circling shadows of the new,
dropping seeds of antiquity into this cracked earth.
Let the heat of this place embrace you.
Feel it leveraging its brazen promise against your gray regret. -- try just "leverage"

Listen again in this rough breeze,
the vibrancy of hues live against the sky, -- this should be "lives" as there's only one vibrancy -- however, you might consider just "vibrant hues" instead
the life that pulses out of sight.
I am here, your Eden of reprieve,
I am here. We are here.

Original-

Valley of Fire, Red Rock, Seven Sisters.
All the hallowed sites of this new home
lush with alliteration, description, and untapped adventure,
but devoid of the thick, emerald blankets of trees and life
that live now only in the corners of my self.

These are missed, and unreal.
Intangible in their farness, yet ever present in the doubting voice that follows,
See what you had, what you tossed aside without thought.
The origin site, rolling with rock and magma, and the wholly saturating water of life
Once left is masked once more.

Time, space, promise, hope.
Ideas circling the shadows of the new,
Dropping seeds of antiquity into this dry, cracked earth.
Let the heat of this place embrace every inch of you.
Feel it loosening, lengthening, leveraging
the promise of adventure against the cold gray hand of nostalgia.

Listen again, in this rough yet gentle breeze.
Listen again, in the vibrancy of colors and hues live against the sky.
Listen again, in the life that pulses just out of sight,
scurrying underfoot at the turn of your back.

I am here, it says.
The gates have not closed to you,
your Eden of respite and reprieve, comfortingly unknown,
I am here. 
We are here.