The Holy Land

My abode now in close proximity,

I make my way to Yosemite .

Holy Land of granite, waterfall, and pine,

feast of beauty for my eyes to dine.

Breathless in the romance,

I rest against a boulder.

Refreshing breeze grows colder,

whispering in my ears of Ansel and John.

Voice of tree, voice of time,

feelings left,

quite sublime.

~Kristi Miles (September 2005)