Himalayan Cloud-Drops    <back to Poetry & Essays main page

The secret of the mountains is that the mountains simply exist, as I do myself: the mountains exist simply, as I do not." – Peter Matthiessen

Temple cloud mists part,
Opening shafts of valley:
A hawk clears its throat

Orange eye winks anew,
Crescent moon meets ice packed dirt.
Steam rises from cave.

Bare teeth of heaven
Glisten atop sun-scaped clouds;
Bird passes in shadow.

White buffalo rises,
A snow cone mother lit
By her rising Moon.

Swift mountain river
Carries currents of circle
Back to the ocean.

Over tumbled ridges
Flies a hawk, his vision
The wind's wispy song.

A little boy sings
On a terrace, eyes aglow.
Ridges spill upward.

Droplets of rain roll
Along fern leaves, running off,
Feeding seed, secrets.

Within the chants
Of cloud mountain movements,
Sun impregnates Earth.

Tree-cast shadows run
Along blue sky hillsides,
Singing Himalaya.

A halo of clouds
Surrounds purple fir peaks:
Clover dance to the wind.

Wrinkled valley chants
Echoes of songbirds feeding,
Drinking the river.

Lichen shivers, cloud
Sweeping along mountain breeze
Across the meadow.

Current-drawn bubbles
Break on sun-baked pebbles;
Riverbed's reborn.

Waterfall cascade
Drowns noise from nearby nest.
Shadows fly the mist.