A Song to Big Bend
I. The morning light in the desert goes from pink, to yellow, to white, all the while warming my apartment like an oven. As I wake I begin to wonder to myself: Could I write a poem about Big Bend - a lyrical ode to my time and journey here? Silence is the first to respond urging me ever deeper. Next the mountains weigh in with their stories of ancient oceans, prehistoric volcanoes, and the casting off of boulders for all eternity. Thus, very slowly, in a series of deep breaths, has come the comprehension of my small belonging to this place. II. I look out my window and notice a tiny lizard darting by with a roadrunner in swift pursuit. As he disappears into the brush I hear him squeal, “Don’t forget the dinosaurs!” How can I forget the mighty dinosaurs? Buried everywhere, their fossilized remains, are a tombstone testament, to a once mighty hegemony, far beyond my comprehension. III. A prophet in nearby New Mexico says, “You cannot not be in the presence of God.” As night falls I struggle to stay awake in order to see the billions of shimmering stars set aglow by the fire of distant suns. IV. The desert cautions me as I depart - “Take me seriously or you may die. Take yourself seriously and you are already dead. If you do not bend, you will break.”
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