first light departure from our coastal home
mile high wilderness visitation  
fresh mountain air a tall glass of thin november nip
anemic low southern sun offering more light than warmth
hoarfrost underfoot   
four sets of boots crunch potato chip rhythms


raven and vulture our trail guides
we follow their slowly spiraling sky-dance
back and forth along the ridgelines
some kind of magic
conjures condor memories of the future
 

frigid eyes watery      drippy noses red
hairless faces scarfed against chill
hairy-face exhales transform from
warm-breath into mustachioed icicles

beyond forest open high-country vistas appear
from our highest viewpoint we see


no map boundaries  
no buildings  
no people
no roads
no cars



it’s quiet up here

we sit

conversation ends without notice


sauntering ridge-walk resumes
wide-open track progressively narrows to
a knife’s-edge no-net tightrope with
mortal drops to the east and west

eyes widen   pace slows   every footstep deliberate  
heartbeat aroused   senses electrified 

sacred rock appears before us     
relentless winds appear from nowhere
we find stone refuge in wind-shadow
just below the ridgeline   packs off   check-in discussion
maybe we are unintentional holy-land interlopers       
we are guests at best

flatlanders in high country with honest intentions    
seek direct experience with the mystery
no inner-medicine ritualistic training
locals’ no-climb advice rings in a not too-distant echo

stone grotto talk reaches consensus agreement     
let’s linger but not climb     
let’s lay-back and bask in this
rich global-center of biodiversity


it’s quiet up here

we sit

awestruck by the sacred whole   

huge-rock towers before us  
itself thrusted skyward
by unseen forces millennia before
as flawed souls with pure hearts
we shrink into its craggy embrace

arms outstretched in prayer
we voice solemn gratitude
to the seven directions

to this sacred rock before us
to these ancient trees on our left
to the swift river on our right
to the great sea behind us  
to the solid granite and molten core below  
to the open sky above
to the spirit flowing inside
around and through things

heart floodgates burst open    
decades of apologies overflow      
remorseful tears stream for
generations of irreparable damage 

acknowledge individual and collective
rivers of arrogance and greed
and without reasonable expectation
we seek forgiveness  
sitting quietly we await reply   
   

a penetratingly silent
spirit-answer
is carried in on the wind     

it’s quiet up here

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