up and upper,
infinitely defying
yet merging finitely skyward,
stumbling along heavenward,
ascending essential lines
buoyantly delicious mountain-fields of colossal pregnant trees
birthing myriad shades of reds, browns, greens
soon to be watercolored by timeless Bay tides,
saltwater celebrates,
slamming through this palisade of
Mama Nature’s holy lustrous jewels
and cascading below,
trails lapse then brashly emerge,
echoing into summertime sodden north California breezes,
skipping biblical rams
bounding uphill all in one motion,
from wild berakah inspired centuries
to sweetly blended wideopen songs:
an Ode then for this benevolent Pacific country,
for this land serenated by bandanaed redheaded mamas
chasing their wooden ship apple seeded dreams,
a glorious sonnet for this gentle country of sensorium
mingling without pretense,
merging without pause,
HaShem’s masterpiece,
an everlasting soul song sung so sweetly…
(satta, satta, bal tashchit)!
(a sentient being so powerful that cannot be destroyed)