November 13, 2009
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Broad expanse overflown by rushing wind howling in your ears.
Rocky river, brown stones, mossy dam.
High cliffs, bright sunshine, cold air and no one thing else.

The trip is long and slow, foolish but fun
“Hey guys, let’s jump in that creek.”
Freezing cold frigid, it is mountainous water.
Mud between toes from the descent, crushed smell of vibrant plants on hands.
Walking through the sun-warmed mud puddles
I wonder how, when, who built this road,
How many have been here before us
One thousand? One hundred?


Now walking on the dirt path, we imagine we’re the first
Or of a hundred thousand chanting Hawaiians among the trees
Or a thousand years ago, and the animals are our fellows
And, feeling the serene wind on my face,
the eternal breezes of the wild mountain spirits, I realize
That I’ve never been so close to heaven

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