Opportunity to Change–Bret Norwood

Opportunity to Change

~

Mountain rises up in front of me,
granite, ancient, clothed in greenery,
that I achieved by hiking feet,
in wending wild and lovely ways alone.

Dwarfed by lords the aborigines feared,
Nature’s angels, gods that squash a man
as man tromps ants without a thought,
I think this holy fear, this awe would bind

someone and I…
if one walked this way with me.

Turning, I descend the ridge and then
‘long the banks of black and crystal creeks,
amid some glowing willows, I
continue into shade. Now where to find

someone? And I
wouldn’t know just what to do with
someone, and I
wouldn’t know just what to do with

an opportunity to change.

Evolution, train without a driver,
track with endless junctions: we the led
are sent such strange selected ways.
This life was unforeseen when I was young.

Heat a can of beans as evening ‘rrives.
Pine bough fire’s coughing sparks–
lone star-like light ‘neath night-black cliffs
‘neath night-black night–goes on and on…
What on Earth to do with
someone?

Don’t even know.

Walk on.

Some Sunday as I passed
the valley of the gypsum glass,
a figure like a cedar dryad
appeared upon the gravel wash.
She shone as sudden as that Caesar’s ghost–
no less startling than a cactus rose–
a khaki hiker in khaki lands,
sunglass-eyes and sunburned hands.

And I–I just grinned and nodded…

With silent nod and knowing grin,
I sent her on her northbound way.

And I–I continued mine.