Holy Jim Canyon 2

Posted on June 2, 2003 in Biomes Photos Poems

When I caught my first glimpse of Holy Jim Falls,
I knelt down and anointed my forehead in the creek.
I pulled myself over the last sharp rocks and water-bared roots
and stood in the fig-tree buttressed sanctuary, watching for God.
Holy Jim Smith was no saint: he cussed and threatened evil
on every bee, bear, and weekend trespasser
in his honey estate. Government men
blushed at the thought of profaning their maps with his name.
I think, though, they must have come here
and sat on the ground before the faintly cerulean gush,
crossed themselves and known that on this spot
no vulgar man could fail to keep the peace
where a spine of living water replaced the dead man on Catholic walls.

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