29. Hanging High (Myshkin, 2020) · quatrains

9pm If I were to pass on in my sleep Let it happen tonight in this place! Let this pine tree alone stroke my face, Let but Shasta for me vigil keep. No more beautiful spot have I found, Than this wide-angle lens to Earth’s soul. Hang my hammock and give up control— This tableau is obscenely profound. Rows of mountains stand guard in the South, Western forest, the pines call me forth, Shasta lords over all to the North, In the East, rainbow flames gapped my mouth. Almost eight thousand feet, up some more. Parking lot sings and barks down below. Lightning strikes further down, just for show. Stars rise always, like never before. It’s majestic, yet simple somehow All my earthly desires melt away To the Maker of this, I shall pray— Breathe and laugh, cry and praise, deeply bow. 3:40am Converted school bus DJ’s back at play: Some soft and soothing music, well attuned. The rain lashed out and left; I’m still cocooned. The stars escaped the clouds; they’re here to stay. I’ve never been more clear-eyed and awake! It’s quiet-lovely at this time of night. Around me, none to hinder Self-delight. This easeful peace is all my heart can take. I’m back to verse to celebrate This Life. My Life, if I were real. One Life, in fact. Nowhere to go, no meaning to extract... Just Evening, asking Dawn to be his wife. I laugh out loud! The pines and rocks don’t care. Cold mountain air reminds me what we’ve lost— We bought our comfort at too high a cost. The wild will bless and teach us. If we dare. Hi, tears! Hi, feelings never felt before! My full heart breaks. The pieces turn to stars. I’m full of angels, earthworms, and guitars. This gift of dying daily fills my core.