praise for the smell
so rancid and ripe
burning your nose
and you know it gives life

praise for the bugs
that bite and annoy
the leave their itchy memory
and you know it gives life

praise for the sounds
sometimes they annoy
planes, peoples, cars
the laughter and wonder
and you know this place gives life

praise christmas dinners atop frary peak
praise the salt and savory of it all
praise eyes opened in wonder
praise feet turned to wander

praise spirit laid bare
praise soul finding respite here
praise the orb weaver spider eating brine flies on my shirt
as i learn to row, afraid to drop my oar

praise my own heart
praise eyes leaking salty drops
praise our interconnection

bring me the stillness of mountaintops
bring time into focus at sunset
i experience the evaporation of a life force
tired and overwhelmed, but i will listen

i am listening now
soaking in the sounds and smells of this ancient teacher
praise the poet before me
lake glistening behind her—

i don’t fancy myself an activist
i change my mind
praise the sun forcing eyes focused
praise bodies present

praise air blowing fresh
over an inland sea
praise the last sunflower
on a southern slope in november

praise our power and potential to heal
praise resistance
praise the big boulders
and the trail winding through and around them

praise the views from frary peak
inspiring me to something greater
seeing my first seagull here
it seemed improbable and out of place

praise a rich fable of how they saved settlers
they still make me smile
now i take them for granted
another unlikely resident of this place

bring a bug’s wing catching the last light
the sunlight warming my face
bring winter beige and glassy blue
voices frizzling into vastness
bring purple chill creeping up
from under the sagebrush

praise the place of fourth grade field trips
praise a cut knee on big rocks and the first place i saw a bison
praise the place we kissed under the stars
praise children playing in the sand and even the smell of them after

it began with the light on the clouds
on the water, on the peaks
it began on their little faces
it began on the lake’s edge

bring me to the halite crystal edge
to the edge of the microbialite
the edge of pickle weed
to the edge of my understanding

bring me to the edge of insight
the edge of plight realized
the edge of what lies ahead
to the edge of my seat

bring me to the edge of what’s here
bring me to the mirror
bring water, bring water
bring the mirror and show me what i am

Lines from River Writers Chloe, Rebecca, Lara, Maggie, Heidrun, Holly, Therese, Nini, Lawrence, Valerie, Jasmine, Amy, Jaimi, and nan who gathered to witness the lake at Lady Finger Point on Antelope Island on November 12th, 2021.