To see the world
Through the frame of words
The moon in the sky
Above ponderosa pines
This scent in the air
Of the rain and wind
To catch and pin
The world to the page
Such tenuous things:
the threat of the storm
the magic behind the dark
The things hidden, left unsaid
Alone, unnoticed under tree and star
Dark vermillion forest of pine and shadows.
Petricor from the desert earth,
Red rocks and sand soaking water.
Pulling and stretching, tearing apart
And pasting them in neat lines
Black on white
With superglued letters
And stuck-together fingers.
Trying to capture the most un-capturable of things
And falling utterly short.
But you cannot stop
Because you see those things
As others do not
The words have shown you how:
Of the sun in the high afternoon
The press of the air, the heat from the rocks.
Or the hush of the deepest night
After the moon has set, while the forest still sleeps
Looking up at the trees, branches clawing the sky
You study the shadows, the shape of that leaf,
The sound of the wind
As it whispers to the mountain.