Poems remain forever unfinished, only to be completed by each new reader - Dan Eric Slocum
Friday, December 30, 2011
enter the mystics
you hardly expect it; a steep, solitary climb on this snow field could be so noisy. Nisqually Glacier on the left, all day long, belching thunderclaps. ice walls and chasms waltzing, (the summer warmth- the invitation to the dance.)
and you feel (could it be love?) for this mountain. and you feel your age (young) Rainier has seen five hundred thousand summers.
this volcano, capable of such destruction, from a distance, is the quintessence of peace. (past lahars speak to the contrary, of course. the geological history is frightening.)
but up you go (moth to flame?) life is a roll of the dice. oh, the numbers are good. (in your favor)
at ten thousand feet. (yes. that is the summit just above: four thousand feet from your very own feet) a few hundred thousand years of this view. what a thought! (what has been seen?)
you will see science on the mountain. (that mountain will chew you up) always in motion, each glacier a huge extended tongue. crevasses bring the surface texture. deep, deep cuts born of moving ice.
dear Mount Rainier is the unlikely muse; a place for dreams (hoping, praying) You’ll find enough ether here to move your most secret thought. (absolution, if it is needed. the last confession) and here, on Rainier, is the staircase. everywhere you look. (so many ways up the mountain.) Your staircase and you know it.
for memory’s sake for navigation. (motivation) for God’s sake
for time will tick you forward (off the mountain); so much less time spent in the present moment, searching for powerfully spent other (past) moments.