Where Men and Mountains Meet
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(Letter from a son)
*Poem
written by my grandma in response to my dad telling her about
a "particularly peaceful encounter high above Lake Michigan"
I thought you would like to
know
that I climbed a hill today behind the Inn
And
where the rocks came together above the lake
I met a man. I
thought I might have met him before
because he looked
vaguely familiar ...
We found ourselves talking easily. He
was relaxed,
not pushy, over-talkative, or cocksure. He
left room
around what he was saying for me to speak.
"What are you looking for?" he asked me. And I wondered
if
I really knew.
But I said, "I would like to be more like
you. I would
like to understand your stillness. I would
like to know
why leaf shadows moving in and out of the
sunlight are
suddenly important."
Somehow love came
in without ever saying the word.
His awareness became mine.
It bound me to shapes and color
and the sky,
and a far
away sail on an invisible boat. He picked
up a stone,
uncurious as to when and how it came to be,
but just aware
of now,
and of things called spiritual,
and of things
called beautiful,
and of things called music that yet
sounded
not a note
I stayed, and he lingered on. I
saw kindness and patience
with my fears (so strange to him,
and yet he understood)
compassion, and joy to have met a
friend
who in some measure
saw with his eyes, and loved
what he saw.
Someday I will climb that hill again.
Perhaps he will be there.
I know he will be there,
because we travel together
this man
and I.
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Where Men
and Mountains
Meet
"What are you looking for?" he asked me. And I wondered
if I really knew...
>read
more>
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How does one mark the
land?
... we are the parks we explore and the land that is
preserved and shared.
> read more
.
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