Wild Gratitude

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A long wait – 50 years – to learn

How deeply and completely

The wild magic of the Boundary Waters

Could burrow.

A self-identified mountain girl

Lost to the still, flat, black water

Contained by granite outcroppings

Layered in midnight green pines

Topped with iridescent spring birches.

In a place of pure stillness.

In a quiet a city dweller doesn’t know

And a peak bagger can’t experience.

I savor the indelible memory of

The night’s all-consuming darkness

Its lavish gift of stars,

The raucous cacophony of loons.

The fog and the suns

One in the sky

One in the glassy still water.

Envelop me in the silence of

Wild gratitude.

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2 thoughts on “Wild Gratitude

  1. Paddle time is precious. Lovely piece here. More to come with retirement?
    Can you imagine absolute -0 silence? Anechoic chamber, Orfield Lab, a place where one can hear ones own heatbeat.

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