Wordless Incantation Hidden in Every Stone

 MatterhornWith every shape, every crag and mountain
Comes wordless incantation, hidden
Silent in dark holiness of hardened stone.
Yet even within density of rock
There is an empty space, a quiet breath,
A thirst that can never be fully quenched.
Do not be misled by apparent dryness,
Mountains bend their heads toward sea,
Place a foot in every wave that sweeps upon the shore,
Raise their peaks high above clouds to see
What we mere mortal women and men
Lack length of years to widely envision.
What stubborn independence resides in sanctuary of wilderness—
Cannot be domesticated even though we climb,
Dive from cliff or fall alone in narrow crevice—
Down, down to where stillness lives and waits in marbled veins.
Through suffering and grief, I’ve come to listen
In ugly dank halls of death to linger,
Sad music haunting through the vale,
Pathos hard to understand or grasp,
Yet strangely there is a whisper, forever present…
A glacial gift that seems both unmoving and forgiving,
Remains as granite symbol of eternal love….
Waits patiently to see the preying eagle soar and cross blue sky,
Inviting vision deeper than human eyes can see.


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