I stand alone
Solitude in shadow
Cast by arcing stone
Find peace in gentle breeze
Wafting warmth from heated earth
Find beauty in nature’s chiseled landscape
I stand alone
Solitude in shadow
Cast by arcing stone
Find peace in gentle breeze
Wafting warmth from heated earth
Find beauty in nature’s chiseled landscape
Though the earth accepts my footfalls
Offers bedrock for my foundations
The moving sky
Holds my fascination
Source of dreamy possibility
Sky and lake
Rippled with moonlight
Clouds a veil
Drawn over coy constellations
On the shore
She stands
In a susurrus of near silence
But for the lap of wavelets
On salt crusted sand
Intent on the texts
Passed between friends
“I am free” she writes
“Good” comes the reply
A pause, and then, “Be safe!”
“I will” she taps out
Adds “I don’t know how long
I’ll be AWOL”
A long wait before
“Your leave is authorized” and
“Take all the time you need”
“I will” she repeats
She smiles
Throws the phone into the lake
Where concentric ripples
Interrupt the linear
Gradually diminishing
Until they disappear altogether
She stands a good while longer
Content
Relieved
If a little anxious
About what the coming daylight will bring
Then shrugs it off
“Fuck him”
Hours before the dawn
The darkness has already ended
A few steps beyond
My car parked at the trailhead
The day falls away
A tumult of stone
Fallen amongst the grasses
From ragged cliffs above
Ancient diminished crags
Once, perhaps, grand as snow capped horizon
First to soil, then to life, feeding hungry bison
Salted inner sea
Perturbed not at all
By even a breeze
Offers its peaceful cradle
To the failing sun
The air
Briny scent of death
The water
Still, thick with salt
The sand
Crusted, brittle, shards sharp underfoot
But the skies
Azure brushed with cirrus wash
And the sun
A hot glitter off the ripples
A beach day
Nonetheless
Sunlight skitters
Off the rippled lake
As a flat stone thrown
From a practiced hand
I enter a cathedral
As if into warped space
Not warped as a physicist might think
But as in how a mystic might think
That is, a spiritual space or dimension
Bent, folded and manipulated
To conform to a specific configuration
Long ago transcribed into books
From collective memories
Predating written language
Aside from a certain wonder
At the passion and dedication
To the exquisite expression
Of humanity’s greater achievements
In art and architecture
A cathedral reminds me
Of the power of group thinking
For both good and ill
How this can become a tight leash
On an individual whose spirit
Simply refuses to conform
But it also reminds me
Of the exultant satisfaction
I experienced
When I finally broke the leash
Chose my own path
And found my way to a spiritual space
Which conformed to me
Not that I am without
My own warped sense of spiritual dimension
But the distortion is familiar to me
Has meaning for me
And brings me to a place of peace