one night I dreamed about the waterfalls – in reality they were a mile away, visible from my yard – as they had been in real life for many weeks, the dream falls were just narrow threads of white falling three thousand feet down the vertical face of the mountain, their usual summertime state, barely there; and then I watched as fat, dark gray clouds settled on top of the mountain – I could see above and into the mountain – and the clouds filled the springs and mountain-top swamp and lava dikes, and the dream falls instantly became giant torrents of water, not wide like Niagara, still long and vertical, but very full, fuller even than their usual wet season state, very much there, and with all the elaboration of power and size a dream can render

I arose and went to work the next morning, and occasionally thought about the waterfalls of my dream, and late that afternoon as I was driving inland up my road towards home, the mountain as always loomed ahead, a thick gray cloud lay atop it, and the twin waterfalls were full and visible from miles away, breaching the scars they had gouged into the lava, so wide they nearly joined one another, and brown with the soil they were washing down the cliff

a coincidence, I know – the waterfalls often pump, though not so often in summer – but the dream of them made their actual appearance more gratifying, and gave it some kind of indefinable import at once as evanescent yet memorable as the dream

Waterfall

Halfway up
the cliff’s solid face
falling water
has carved a path
that leads
to a cave

veiled by mist
and drowned
in its own sound,
echoes
of thundering water

this deep wound
is your immaculate
home

here you sit
secure, omniscient
in your profound peace

the view is
wide and unsparing,
beneath you spreads
the world, ravenous
for human misery

the glutton cannot touch
you here in your
dripping cave
where, after a lifelong
climb up stones slick
with ancient moss

you have beamed
the searing heat
of your memories
to dry for you

this warm wasteland
this desert of rest

this wise man’s
perfect refuge

this fool’s prison
of falling water

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