AUSTRALIA | Monday, 18 November 2013 | Views [268] | Comments [1]
Creek
One granite ridgeA tree, would be enoughOr even a rock, a small creek,A bark shred in a pool.Hill beyond hill, folded and twisted Tough trees crammedIn thin stone fracturesA huge moon on it all, is too much. The mind wanders. A millionSummers, night air still and the rocks Warm. Sky over endless mountains. All the junk that goes with being human Drops away, hard rock waversEven the heavy present seems to fail This bubble of a heart.Words and booksLike a small creek off a high ledge Gone in the dry air.A clear, attentive mindHas no meaning but thatWhich sees is truly seen.No one loves rock, yet we are here. Night chills. A flickIn the moonlightSlips into Juniper shadow:Back there unseenCold proud eyesOf Cougar or CoyoteWatch me rise and go.
Gary Snyder Nov 24, 2013 11:10 AM