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.
the whiteness will come full circle.
