One granite ridge
A tree, would be enough
Or even a rock, a small creek,
A bark shred in a pool.
Hill beyond hill, folded and twisted
Tough trees crammed
In thin stone fractures
A huge moon on it all, is too much.
The mind wanders. A million
Summers, night air still and the rocks
Warm. Sky over endless mountains.
All the junk that goes with being human
Drops away, hard rock wavers
Even the heavy present seems to fail
This bubble of a heart.
Words and books
Like a small creek off a high ledge
Gone in the dry air.
A clear, attentive mind
Has no meaning but that
Which sees is truly seen.
No one loves rock, yet we are here.
Night chills. A flick
In the moonlight
Slips into Juniper shadow:
Back there unseen
Cold proud eyes
Of Cougar or Coyote
Watch me rise and go.
Gary Snyder
4 comments:
Hi Cate
I quite like the Snyder poem it fit well with the image. But you photo was absolutely stunning, just incredibly beautiful. It made me wish I could just sit and soak up the peace of that space.
Guy
Exquisite photo! Such contrast between the stillness and rush of water - reflecting life of course...
"...Even the heavy present seems to fail this bubble of a heart....but that Which sees is truly seen." Yes!
Such depth of beauty in this post!
Christine...
Side by side beauty of different kinds. Stunning. Your talent and eye for the honesty in nature blows me away.
Me thinks, and hopes, a book will appear one day, as if by magic. Photos, paintings, word art.
Blessings.....
What a gorgeous picture.
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