Chasing a Rainbow
05/04/07 & 08/13/09
[a memory of October '77 coast to coast trek
with Genesis 9:12-17 and the lyrics of
"Look to the Rainbow" in mind]
Down the divide's windward side,
Unblocked, my blue bug bounds
The road recurving westward
Toward the valley ahead
A wind rinsed rainbow chasing
In a misty infusion of cloud and clear.
~
On Gunnison, on Grand, on Green.
Valley, cuesta, canyon, bluffs,
Arroyo, ridge, wash and flats.
The Book Cliffs' rocky stacks -
Countless codes of ages past
But I've no time to tarry..
~
A great west wind at three
Desertborn fresh
And thirsty for dust
To scour the slickrock clean
And carve new notches
In unfallen arches.
~
Like you passing through
With no rest in mind.
So up onto the Swell
It's stark white stone ships
Riding forever frozen
Atop windscraped redcaps.
~
Twisting through the Wasatch,
Dusk creeping behind faster than
Construction constricted traffic
The sky's long been clear.
The rainbow lost to sight,
But I'll look to it again,
Tomorrow, at first light.
- Gerald A. Ney
Words
08/07-10/09
Polonius: "What do you read, my lord?"
Hamlet: "Words, words, words" -
William Shakespeare
"It depends on what the meaning
of the word 'is' is" - Bill Clinton
"When I use a word,
it means just what I choose it to mean
--neither more nor less." - Humpty Dumpty
in "Through the Looking Glass" by Louis Carroll
"England and America are two countries
separated by a common language."
- George Bernard Shaw
Liquidly they flow
Or go dry
As an Atacama arroyo.
~
Like a peach or plum,
Unyielding unripe.
Beneath the skin revealing
When ready.
~
Both good and bad,
Beauty and beast
On surface, in depths.
~
Yet often not heard
nor read or even meant
as said.
~
And clearest crystal
Ringing truth sincere,
A pale reflection still.
~
An impenetrable pit
Hidden within
Known only to God.
- Gerald A. Ney
Meditation on Middle Section of
Alfven's Swedish Rhapsody #1 (Midsommarvarka)
08/10/09
[What the artist intends & what one hears...
may be quite different. From Viking to
Frobisher to Tolkien the way west called.]
--------------------------------------------
The summer sun beckons
On its long westward trek;
A melancholy horn call
More felt than heard
On the pregnant stillness
of the endless afternoon:
"Come home, come home...,
Over the sounding waves,
Mount now the rolling swells
Leave behind the rockbound shores
Neither night nor flying wrack
Your course shall stay
To the harbor of your dreams;
Follow me, follow me."
~
And the haunting call,
With persistent persuasion
From the restless waters
Stirs the depths of my soul
Setting my face to follow
Till I find my long home
Across life's wide sea.
