The scree in the crevasse
              thaws an impasse
      for all but what descends
      crumbling toward other ends
through deep long valleys where the hidden lake
receives the icy rocks.   And for whose sake?
             For some
all this is reason for their having come.

      I sought the waterfalls
             for ouzel calls,
      to spy that bird pursue
      its rivered avenue
and spin through falling spray to the upper cliff,
singing its way to the source.  You ask, what if
             I found 
everything as I wished upon that ground?