5 August 2007
In gray winter we were dreamers
in a dream journey across America,
across deserts, mountains, river valleys,
in a land of dreamers, on a Greyhound bus,
running across fields of snow, leaping fences,
skipping along streams, turning rail-lines
into tight-ropes in the imagination
until the world split in majestic two
and we glided along the Gorge,
tracing the mighty Columbia
to the streets of Portland.
I remember walking those streets
for the first time in a light rain
falling just barely turning sidewalks
into glistening mirrors of movement
from one new realm to another.
Everything was new, without boundaries.
I must have been smiling like an idiot.
Never before had we been younger
than in that moment at the Willamette River
when the rain stopped, the clouds parted
and in the distance we saw for the first time
the misty snow-capped peak of Mount Hood.
© 2007, Satya J. Gabriel