The evening sky falls

Beyond the walls, thick. Towering.

The brink of Lone Pine Lake.

Molecules Frozen,  if only for an

instant, if only for the season.

Animals Breathe;

And ancient bellows move

Throughout and within

the heights of the canyon.

Deep, vibrant, uniquely round repeating melodies effortlessly shake my confidence.

Weary and gauche,  I walk along the path.

When the source finds me mere feet from it’s calling stone,

A giant winged gatekeeper with

counterfeit eyes of orange and white

Coyly allows safe passage through it’s

evening realm, where skies morph between moments.

And in this, darkness fills.

Calmly on the edge, searching for

comfort in the swaying of a spruce,

I sing to myself; and potential predators.

Forever grateful for the unforgiving night.

Prepared for treasure.

Prepared for tragedy.

During the previous day’s sun, I was witness to a ceremony of love;

Molecules racing, bouncing in currents created by the wind.

Mild air floats beneath the warm sun.

The shoreline tracts and retracts.

Love is on the beach…

death is in the water.

Pushing breadth to see through the lens of the souls who never dried off;

I undress and dive into the cold lake.

I swim beneath and cross the width, to where the water meets a colossal land-wall

rising thousands of feet into the atmosphere.

My eyes penetrate the waters wormhole surface.

Squinting. Vying…

To hold this gift up in the embrace of another seems to be an intensely fulfilling prophecy.

Compounded hearts have always heard the call from the mountains.

My soul reaches through,

seeking the familiar eye.

Wholly committed and fully extended.

Taking deep deep breaths of the way it could be.

“You will see the eye in time my friend,

You will see the eye in time,”

I hear repeating as

thumbprints hang thinly on the glass eyes of the hills.

Full. Dilated. Lift exponentially increases.

Pondering the far reaches of the universe, I relate to reality.

Below the air that

guides dark feathers home,

A ripples journey is stopped dead in time.

But only on the surface;

Temporary and thin.

All of us can not be scratched.

-GKT