- _ - —-- -«»» I«' ..Jfc
Of th e W il d , T e m p o r a r y
Who knows how long you ve stood here, watching through
tall green eyes over this jagged strip of shore? You re the
silent one, without apology Perhaps you spoke once, a long
time ago, belching out smoke and impossible chunks of red
rock high against the sky Why else would the ancient ones
call you Neahkahnie, the place oi fire?
Now, with a road sliced into you, we assume you re thought
tame Do you (eel the humans have belittled your
sacredness? Do the indifferent ones, speeding by, eat away at
your strength and power? Maybe its crazy to talk at all
about your knowing or feeling (But out of curiosity, did the
roar and vibration of dynamite blasting into your western
flank arouse any images of past life? And are those
otherwise unexplained black boulders down by the creek
really a memory of your hot soul?)
From below, you seem clear and simple enough---a bulk of
earth and green poised on the background of sky We
expected only a matter of time and sweat to reveal your peak
and the broad view of your domain Why would the human
trail labor up your flank if not to push for that conclusion?
We kept close track of the way traveled and the course yet to
come, to the darkened point above, where blue was seeping
all around you We paused now and again to feel the cool
breeze, to feel whether you d speak from somewhere behind
its voice
Switchbacking through the north, winding along the west,
we listened out into your forest Then you wrapped us
around to the south, where one long view opened on town
and bay, the roll oi hills and the white lines pushing slowly
into the shore As beautiful as it was, it wasn't enough We
couldn't be satisfied with only a hint of your perspective
Your eyes at the sum m it-—they were the goal We wanted to
know, without doubt, why you chose this aloneness, why it
seems your sensibility m ust clarify and quicken in solitude
On the south face, never seeming any closer to what we
believed your peak, the descent began, away into the valley
We became certain of that steady movement away, and
turned, to trace upward again, following back almost to
where we d started on the circle of your flanks You saw how
the beaten path had begun to confuse us, how we checked
our bearings against you Blue left, blue right, the high point
between But we found no sign of any course leading to the
blue The search brought us only two ascents that seemed to
m eet in a grand view of the coast
We began to lose faith in the human trail (You knew it
would happen Still yqu were mute, even mischievous,
refusing to show us to a clear summit, much less tell of past
lives Forgivable silences, if we have any claim at all to ask
or be denied or speak forgiveness m the context of you It is
your territory, rule it as you see fit Long before us Long
after u s )
For a moment, we did think you heard us pleading We
even thought we heard you speak come up from the west,
you said If the voice was your guidance or our delusion, we
still aren t sure
The beginning of the new approach was easy, slicing
through the emptiness between the clumps of swordfern, to
the cold, windy ridgelme that so distinctly divides your
flanks The north view, across a deep valley of forest, came
through the limbs in fragments We stayed with the ridge,
becoming more convinced of a summit just above Carefully
we chose our steps on your blue-green stones, threading
ourselves around tangled bodies oi the many who died to
your love of winter storms
You heard us ask passage over the muscled roots of those
who still live here with you, those brave enough to challenge
the winds that lash at you from every direction You watched
us climb over and crawl under those brave enough to try, and
ultimately fail We could only give a little to your slope then,
dropping around a root system and shattered body that
seemed impassable, slipping through the mindled limbs of
young ones gathered just below your ridge Were we truly
confronting the untamed side of your character'? Or had we
simply stumbled into another encounter with our own
weakness 7
You must have seen how we were struggling for almost
every step—-awkward, disoriented, taking on silvered moss
and the old man's beard, in our hair, on our faces, hung from
our arms, as though trying to absorb us into your landscape
Yes, we did wonder if we d come too far, come too wild and
undefined With you, it's a reasonable question, a simple
logic of fear It stopped us, Kahme And th e n - maybe it was
your doing—it left us We couldn't say why Your stilling of
the wind might have swayed us Maybe it was our certainty
that the human trail could be reclaimed, with a short drop in
any of three directions Something suggested we go on It
was almost as if you were glad for the company, some other
intellegence to whom you could reveal subtle features of
yourself, even if it couldn't possibly understand and
empathize
The course had become anything but apparent Your forest
gave little clue about direction We began to question the
purpose of our pressing forward Fighting your gravity and
silence, we gave a little more to the south slope, found an elk
or deer trail that parallels your ridgelme, settled into the
prints of wild creatures, up a little, down a little, weaving
over your ribs, erratic, trusting Maybe we saw the way only
because we wanted to believe there was one Surely the elk
and deer know your face and your soul better than any who
merely visit here When young, they were probably as
curious about your upper limits as we are What's known
about you must be passed from mothers as whisperings to
the young Where to find water Where to find food Where,
when full, to look out on distant lands
Their paths held us close to the final knowledge It
seemed to be on that ridge, where we sensed blue as much
by the smell and sound of the cold wind as by anything we
saw through the limbs And you watched us break beyond
even this indistinct course, pushing through the damp life
and lifelessness you allow on your flanks Yes, by then, even
knowing the need for humility, we were pushing--our
passion for an answer against your passion for silence We
were aiming for the blue If you d deny us that, we d ask for
a wholehearted denial And our instinct did lead us back up
to that line, where you hold north and south together
You could see then we were close You knew we studied
your profile carefully, trying to feel out the physical
placement of things A rise of stone and earth A dip to the
trunk that still toils against these winds from wherever
Down here Up here Our eyes settle on this hump in your
spine, this mound, this one particular stone that's highest
above all nearby
Is it here, Kahme, on this point where we feel the dropping
east and west, where we know the dropping north and south7
Is it here, on this green stone that may never before have felt
the human weight7 If we step onto that stone and call it the
summit of you, Fire Mountain, will you scoff at us7 Will you
burst from your core with rage and ridicule7 And long after
you've buried us deep in the glow oi your anger, will you
then speak openly to other wanderers, about the day of fools
who dared think they'd met your sum m it7
If you won t answer or show us otherwise, we can only
say, by our eyes and judgement, it is here You smile at the
brashness7 Forgive us our youth Do you remember your
own, when you volunteered your being to the hot belly of the
earth and exploded from the ocean floor7 Do you recall your
words, when you told her, like the tactless child you were, of
your dreams to reach not only above the wide sea but high
into the clouds7 That you stand here as you are, towering
over this world--the simple fact betrays your own faith and
your own youthful will to danger Even if you ve grown
intolerant with age, that memory must linger m the soil and
stones here, among the lives draped over your flanks
If you won t speak, how are we to know7 Belief is our only
alternative
Of course, we'll not say we had any secret knowledge of
you We ll admit only that your silence forced us to trust our
senses, and believe we met you on the summit Brash maybe,
not disrespectful We hope you hold many secrets close We
might think less of you if you showed all Do you see our
dilem m a- wanting to know your life intimately, afraid that
the final knowledge would be the end of mystery and
dream s7 You're wise to leave us with doubt about this
particular green stone Well believe it's compassion, not
scorn, that holds you silent
We can easily accept that there's no grand view from here,
no broad spectacle to reward the effort that led to this
conclusion The branches between us and the blue, these
lives who endure, the remains of those who tried and
succeeded for their tim es--don't you know7 They mean far
more to us than a brief glimpse of rugged coastline, far more
than simply another angle on what w ell see again, next time
the highway carries us back this way
If this hard won place is merely a false summit, Kahme, if
confusion and compromise have misled us about destination,
the struggle was more for itself than for the goal If we ve
missed your peak, we've come close to you The twigs and
needles tangled in our hair, the moss hung from our clothes,
the black soil drying on our fingers, the stains from wet bark
rubbed against our skin—-if these are marks of the unhuman,
we're so many determined steps closer to your wild heart
¿ j 4 Tend Street
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