Coming into 29, you wake up in this high mountain valley sunshot, and constantly changing to the eye, which attempts to dissolve everything in the translucence of memory's color.

Rest now in this music. Offer praise to the river, the hill, the sighing pine, the chinook's warm breath flowing down the canyon, the love hidden in the seed of everything.

Soon it will be time to descend into the work of years left but bearing now in your palms this grace of snow, and rock, and the in and out of breath's white smoke.

March 2, 2007 Banff, Canadian Rockies