I’ve never been in an airplane
Over this particular patch of ground,
But I have seen the hawk’s view somehow, maybe a vision
Or a dream of the greenery extending from a winding river--
These things don’t need proof they are there,
Memory being the only link between what remains
And what remains unseen. But if I should venture to fly
Across this desolate beauty I shall know my own
Wyoming magnitudes. I will revel in the fact my feet have gone toe to toe
With Alpine truths too rich to tell, again--or ever--
Like the way some smiles carry too many questions
To meet with answers, as if there were ever any.


This smile asked, “Have you ever seen so much
Grace waiting to be given?” Beware!
Those eyes open inward to depths unknown
Even to the owner of the looking. And stories are being told
In body language, in symbols everywhere. Even Nothing means
Something. This gravity between us has always been
Magnetic. Strange is the new normal. I told you so is the blink
Of your eye.

12/07/2016

Posted on 12/07/2016
Copyright © 2024 Rob Littler