Above, up there somewhere in the sky, this cold mountain river pours over a precipice and into the gorge where I now stand. I hiked down into the valley from the ridge this morning and then upstream through the field of massive boulders littering the banks on either side of the raging water. Moss on the rocks, slick with spray, made my progress more treacherous with each step taken towards the falls but, now that I am here, all that fades away.
The sun is hot already and its warmth provides an interesting contrast to the cool mist emanating from the feathery downward rush. Everywhere I look, I see rainbows in the mist. This gift of mountain rain casts its echoes on the canyon walls to the rhythm of the pulsing in my veins. Here, born again on the slippery rocks, bathed in a surreal sea of rainbows, locked in a moment inside my mind, I throw off all my clothes and wade into the river.
for this sunrise a song…
from this leaf a dewdrop