#yosemite
those who observed me while i was dormant
marveled at my majesty
unaware of the volatility that i barely kept contained
i was roped off, labeled with a tidy wooden sign that told me and others
what i was
a stoic monument and stable mountain
while at my core i seethed, i did my best to be what i needed to be in order to be witnessed
inevitably i erupted, frightening the gathered onlookers with a blazing rain of lava and a suffocating cloud of ash
the sky grew dark and it felt like the end of the world
but i needed to scream and i didn't mean to hurt anyone
i've had far fewer visitors since that day
i was fenced off, labeled with a rusting metal sign that told me and others what i was
a volcanic monster and volatile menace
i wonder
as i quietly crumble into the sea
if i will be remembered by humanity
and if so
will it be as the mountain
or the monster?
in the end
i think i would prefer to be forgotten
Dec 4, 2023
Dec 4, 2023 at 2:28 PM UTC
Matchsticks used and burned to black
Stand amid their brethren tall
Through Mount and Vale
Their limbs compete
To reach into Heaven's seat
Merced flows and bubbles past
Bird and beast both heed the call
From Bridal Veil
Is river born
To reach for the Distant Shore
Stare in awe! El Capitan,
Mighty Chief, above them all
The peak unveils
Yosemite
In its natural majesty
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 6:59 PM UTC
I craved
the solitude
and finally feel
safe
alone in the dark woods
and now I see
bright green moss,
everywhere,
on the bark of the trees
And suddenly I know:
I've been set free!
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 7:58 PM UTC
walking
dazed by the noise of my noisy mind
I forget -
there always is a silent background
Of squirrels
climbing in spirals
Of water,
slow
down a cliff
Of roots
embracing the earth
How is it,
that one wants Forever?
Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 1:19 PM UTC
Lost on the ***** slabs
of Tenaya Peak,
we sang at bears in the moonlight.
The prusik came in handy in the end,
and the two sixty-metres ropes.
Then,
the lake saved us;
our lips too dry to smile.
Sep 26, 2017
Sep 26, 2017 at 12:53 AM UTC
In retrospect,
the nicest part
of that whole afternoon—
what with that summer sunlight,
cascading down onto the sward
where you and I
sat in the deep shade of a noble oak tree—
the nicest part
of that whole afternoon—
what with that dignified roar from Yosemite Falls
resounding throughout the valley
and those songbirds chirping out a perfect counterpoint
in the immediate foreground,
the nicest part
of that whole afternoon—
what with the dry dirt of that flawlessly unkempt
softball field warming our bare toes,
and those children playing—
their shadows ever lengthening—
in that eternal Eden…
In retrospect,
the nicest part
of that
entire
afternoon
was getting to spend it
with you.
May 25, 2017
May 25, 2017 at 5:42 PM UTC
Black feathers signal an arrival
What seemed like endless roads
Carved rugged into the Earth
Beady eyes welcome this moment
Low valley streams, white rapids
Serenely sinister silence of the woods
Two feet, four paws just a blur
Grounded only by a painted beauty
Sun sets, fire rises, that smokey cinder
Eating, laughing, living so free
Stars explode through the tree tops
Night summons an absolute darkness
Blood red dawn, a shadow of the day
Walking now, footsteps, running water
Collecting the goodbyes and good times
Naturally black feathers occupy the vacancy
Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 12:04 PM UTC
I long for myself
and for those I love
and for those I lead
to be like the
wild sequoias.
Let our reach
be high and vertical.
Let our roots
be firm and intertwined.
Let us be
strategically planted
in deep reservoirs.
Let our bark
be thick and resilient.
Let our seeds
be released
and germinated
when the fire comes.
Yes, let us be
an enduring grove,
outliving difficult
seasons and enjoying
the plentiful.
Apr 5, 2017
Apr 5, 2017 at 2:13 PM UTC
I reflect upon the Father's love -
monoliths in Yosemite.
The eagle screeches far above
a song, "Your love's extremity".
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 1:14 AM UTC
It must’ve been 1992,
And all I’d remembered was the smell of
Maple
On my fingers.
The moon’d later melt,
And all I’d remembered was the smell of
Maple
On my fingers.
The boys met the girls,
And all I’d remembered was the smell of
Maple
On my fingers.
I’d never forget, “tender,” her thigh,
And all I’d remembered was the smell of
Maple
On my fingers.
And leaves later felled their own trees,
But all I’d ever remember was the smell of
Maple
On my fingers.
Note - Yosemite, 1992, her name was, "Elizabeth," and we always fall in love come the first attempt at, "connect," right?
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 9:46 AM UTC