the simple splendor

I go back into my mind’s river
back three decades to a canyon
in the southern Sierras
full with the smell
of kit kit dizie
incense cedar
and the sap of ponderosa pine.

I believe we dropped acid that day
or the textures, the smells
the dynamic currents
of the Tule river
alone patterned our consciousness.

I was still learning
the simple splendor
of this exact moment
in which I live
learning that
from you, My Dear.

A river runs through
the limestone rocks
the wet roots of sedge
the muddy banks
with Summer’s last flowers.

Grace saw this so I could write it

A red dragon fly
floats above the pond
water bugs grasp the surface
of the flow
the dynamic tension
around each foot
casts a bright bubble of light
on the mud
at the bottom of the pond.