Linville Falls, the Grand Canyon of the South

Both times my eyes glazed

but I remembered this turn and

then the rush of water carving

age into timeless stone

from wonder.

Remember. That unmarked side trail

led straight to the river,

low and calm and

glittering in the afternoon light

my eyes awash

but I couldn’t tell or even sense

once back on the path

we were just standing in wild headwaters

with wonder.

How water could at once be capable of

such rest, serene,

then spill over an edge no one predicted,

pause,

then twist and grind a spiral plunge

nearly fifty feet downward.

Only after the second stop, way up

hanging off the edge of an

effortlessly perilous cliff

the sheer madness of

my feet not more than an hour ago

in that same water

rushing over and over and down.

A part of me went down

that river

and further

full of wonder still.