Sundance Pass

Here only the toughest grasses survive
and there’s no talk of trees. Lakes
glitter like dimes where the streams
curve. On one side is the path we came,

looking not so impressive as we wish.
The other way lies paths we might take
yet, full of haze and possibilities.
And across the valley we can see the

high lake we were trying to get to
when exhaustion barred the way and we
made a fine camp, short of our goal.
What was all blind groping then is all

clear vision now. But then going is
mostly groping, isn’t it? And when,
with considerable effort, we climb
to where we can see the whole landscape,
 
there’s not much we can do about it,
except descend again to the nearness
and confusion of things, grateful
for the sharp satisfaction of knowing
how close we came to yesterday’s desire.