Waking to Mountains
By Mike Gettel-Gilmartin
Inspired by my week at Holden Village
I have yet to see you dawn-lit
Even though I wake at a quarter to six.
I imagine you thick-snow-capped, glistening.
That season will surely come.
Today, after Midsummer, you have only peekings of white;
flanks of burned-up pine
from the fire of 2015, seven years ago!
A blip in planetary time,
A chunk in human.
We're here
For Jubilee!
Slaves will be free.
Land will rest.
Forgive us our debts.
We will be gone soon
But mountains remain.
At Sacred Space, Manny said
He lifted his eyes to you
And felt the littleness of human things.
AMEN
