Her Supreme Majesty

Hordes of sight-seeking tourists
converge on an area of splendid
natural geology, with breathtaking
vistas of mountains marching in
vast discipline upon the far horizon 
yet achieving a measure of intimacy 
by clambering up a mountainside 
to view an arras of scattered boulders 
and smooth granite surfaces embracing 
a raceway for a mountain stream
hurtling itself toward the river below.
Tourists spill from a parking lot 
toward trails leading to bowls 
scoured out of the granite where 
rushing water enters and revolves 
circularly and powerfully as it has 
done since time immemorial, carving
the basin upon whose presence
attention is riveted. Venerable oaks,
beeches, pines and yellow birch
stand sentry beside worn trails
leading over latticeworks of roots
and rocks to a series of granite
levels where the stream froths and
falls ferociously over boulders only 
to slither silently on the smooth
descents. Standing in awe and
admiration at the raw power of nature, 
humankind grasps but briefly 
the supreme majesty before it.