Eastern Wisdom

Late afternoon clouds, low

moving over Pikes Peak as faux mist.

Weak translucent shade

pulled over the proud peak’s silhouette,

a massive wall rising from the prairie,

both gateway and barrier to the West.

The low cover a pale disguise

seeking to evoke the Appalachians,

eastern grandfather of the Rockies.

Where mist is the white hair of old age,

draped across shoulders

that have born the weight of war

and across eyes that have seen

the birth of a nation and

subsequent hemorrhage and healing.

Wearied by it all, yet patient with its people.

The Rockies represent a different world

of coarse courtesies and jagged prose.

Whose stark and rugged good looks

bow before the grace of eastern beauty.

Whose brashness has little to teach,

and much to learn

From the wisdom of the East.