Artist’s Point, October-mid

I sit perched atop yellow stone,

split-rock chasm drinking falling waters,

and I ask, “what am I?”

Am I bird, swimming high above the clouds?

This I have been, and more.

Am I bear, feasting deeply only to sleep more deeply still?

This I have been, and more.

Am I whale, gliding blue depths to sing into the heart of the world?

This I have been, and more.

Am I simply a man, groaning ‘neath burdens beasts bear not?

This I am, but I am more.

I am fire and wind,

lightning and rain.

I am image,

a word spoken by Word,

marking my voyage, moment by moment,

longing for home.

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