Two Songs of the Illecillewat
Two Songs of the Illecillewat
I.
The mountains lift me by the root
To high delight where glacier, scarp, and sky
Meet in the world's wide grip. Boundless then
The soul's extent when mountains beckon.
But then a glance along the marsh's edge
Reveals the power of the delicate,
And I would be as small and fine
As any pebble rolling, rolling
In the blue and dancing Illecillewaet.
II.
The journey-taker wrings his hands:
"I wish that I were small and fine
As ever could, by ice and time,
Be tumbled by the Illecillewaet."
The waters laugh: "O, petty man!
There is no sense in your dispair.
Come, embrace the mountain air
And dance along the Illecillewaet!"
© 1998, Louis G. Ceci