Krag Peak Cirque (VI.30.2009). Eagle Cap Wilderness . . .
On the road in the American Northwest. [ click photo for next . . . ]
POOL OF LIFE—a meditation
The bite of a trout breaks the surface of the water’s morning calm . . .
Small fish are protected by their lightning-fast speed; Large, by their
greater weight and water-wise ways. But neither is safe from the folly
of the farmer’s banker as he in his unquenchable thirst taps off the last
drops of the pool’s water.
O round pool of an alpine tarn, waves resonating, ringing out into the
distance. Who is to say where they stop? See the subtle society of their
merging, their complex composite forms.
Some cultures just rush right by, so full of fear are they that the banker
will lock his doors before they can make a final run on their cash.
Others, give the reading of such waves their complete and utmost
attention, protecting the quiet waters upon which they are composed
from interferences undue.
As the autumn morning shades into afternoon, a lone golden eagle
turns wide, soaring gyres above the pond, first sun-wise, then widershens.
I lay back on the soft heather tundra and remember images from
the Alps, the past. “Sempre solo, tutti cresti!” says the proud Italian
mountain farmer. Not far away, a man came out of the time-warp of
glacier ice, Ötzi, more than four thousand years old, with boots—see
the miracle!—made of four different kinds of leather and a layer of
matted straw for warmth.
Who is to say? . . . Out of the ice . . .
Perhaps that is all we are. Just patterns of waves,
and mostly water..
POOL OF MIND—a meditation
The mind is like a pool of water
that reflects many mountains.
Rarely, if ever, do we
see the mountains directly.
Better to keep the water pure,