One Granite Ridge

"One granite ridge
A tree, would be enough
Or even a rock, a small creek,
A bark shred in a pool..." – Snyder, from "Piute Creek"











"Once you get past
the thousand cars
then you will see..."
Could close your eyes
for first hour not yet
to the four hawks
circling up there at top
of Pothole trail
where the rockfall
as mystic as a wild curtain.
"Who made this place?"
Could close your eyes
for the first hour not yet
craggy juniper that
dances right out of cracks
of the erupted quartzite
where we'll wonder
why the world does
to come to call here
for all the worlds' secrets.
Could close your eyes
for the first hour not yet
that gulley we've come
to love like a sister, mother
father and elder
for it has laid its hand
wide open for us,
gave us that creek.
"Why don't we learn
to love like the creek does?"
We sit and learn
that the lake isn't just
a lake – it speaks.
Listen says the wind
and is off leaping rock to rock.