Poem: And Crown Thy Good
The Northern Pacific coastal air has to be sampled to comprehend
What serenity smells like: sea salt, tide pool and pine
Sit down where fertile soil meets cool, damp sand
Whisper secrets to the wind; let it carry the burden of what you said
The sky east of the Rockies has to be seen to be understood
What the so called “Big Sky” really, truly is
It stretches on, wide open, like a blanket in the heavens
Draped over the top of the Great Plains’ grass bed
The mountaintop nighttime has to be seen to be believed
In order to really grasp the brilliance of the stars above
Just lay there on your back, at the highest point possible
Let the flood of ancient light and total silence fill your head
The Southwestern desert has to be seen to imagine
How majestic earth’s sandstone sculptures can be in the twilight
Great stone monuments to vanished oceans from eras long past
Bathed in golden radiance with notes of orange and red
The great flow of the Mississippi has to be seen to fully get
How an epic “Big River” could inspire such a song
Wade into the shallows and try to see the other side
Let your eyes follow ships and barges to where the Gulf is fed
The warmth of the tropical Atlantic has to be felt for you to know
That the ocean’s embrace can convey calm and love
Dive in through the face of an oncoming, rolling wave
Let the crashing surf erase the path that you’ve tread
What serenity smells like: sea salt, tide pool and pine
Sit down where fertile soil meets cool, damp sand
Whisper secrets to the wind; let it carry the burden of what you said
The sky east of the Rockies has to be seen to be understood
What the so called “Big Sky” really, truly is
It stretches on, wide open, like a blanket in the heavens
Draped over the top of the Great Plains’ grass bed
The mountaintop nighttime has to be seen to be believed
In order to really grasp the brilliance of the stars above
Just lay there on your back, at the highest point possible
Let the flood of ancient light and total silence fill your head
The Southwestern desert has to be seen to imagine
How majestic earth’s sandstone sculptures can be in the twilight
Great stone monuments to vanished oceans from eras long past
Bathed in golden radiance with notes of orange and red
The great flow of the Mississippi has to be seen to fully get
How an epic “Big River” could inspire such a song
Wade into the shallows and try to see the other side
Let your eyes follow ships and barges to where the Gulf is fed
The warmth of the tropical Atlantic has to be felt for you to know
That the ocean’s embrace can convey calm and love
Dive in through the face of an oncoming, rolling wave
Let the crashing surf erase the path that you’ve tread
