This poem loosely based oh his “A Walk” & “How Poetry Comes To Me”.
P eering over from cliff’s edge
high above the churning fall
of the steel-blue stream
I watch trout slide in then out
of the soft break of a bolder’s shade
across the stone canyon
cut by this persistence of current
an Osprey stands — focused sentinel
measuring the timing and tactic
of his imagined next meal
down the steep granite face
through the white aspen and Douglas fir
giant chinquapin and Oregon madrone
I descend at steady pace
bent-knee’d and cautious
I throttle and steer
with boot tread and leather palm
followed by a fine dusted slide
of clattering limestone pebble
and dry needle
down to the stream-side grass patch
then alertly hop
rock to rock
‘cross the dance of crystal chill stream
to make camp in this wilderness canyon
midst the quiet rush
of the Clackamas waters
and the hushed murmur
of tall Ponderosa bough
here to rest and meditate
mesmerized by this eden
and to commiserate with Mr Snyder
he’s tagged behind all afternoon
pestering my thoughts
with the urge of verse
finally
by this night’s fire
he approaches carefully
in words taking wafted form
rip’ling ‘cross the crisp white water
stumbling over the moonlit boulders
staying just outside my campfire’s light
just out of clarity
my muse in company
I invite Gary’s spirit
to join
inside this ring of light
he comes
I hear his words
voiced more distinctly
more clearly in my mind
I listen openly
under his influence
as words begin
falling to paper
*
rob kistner © 2021
Poetry at: dVerse
In tribute to Gary’s zen lifestyle, and his embrace of Shugendo mysticism.
He currently resides and meditates in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada mountains.