High in the Sierras

High in the Sierras,
Before the mountains step down
Onto the Joaquin Valley floor,
Are harbored cool transparent lakes
Filled each spring anew by the melting
Of the winter's snows.
Brother to neither earth nor sky
These lakes spill their clear, pure waters
On to altitudes kin to sunlight and verdure,
Where living things find comfort,
Where dying things find rest.

Through the patience of time
(Of which man knows not)
Lakes disappear beneath meadow carpetry,
Laced by rambling sumac and wild berry bushes,
Veiled eventually beneath shade of the pine and the fir,
The spruce and the sequoia.

Where once had grown the watercress and reed,
The pine now towers tall.
Where once the trout had spawned and played
The fox now builds his den.
Where long ago the merry waters flowed,
The lazy drone of insects now dominate the stillness.

The change was in the seasons,
And the seasons into years.
And the years advanced monotonously
Beneath the spell of timelessness.

Darkness became light
And with the dawning of the light
Man appeared.
Into the light man brought his own darkness
(Which stands apart from the night).
And for his darkness, man created him light.
By this light man chose to live
And by this light man chose to die.

Man stands apart from his creator,
For the mountains and the lakes on the mountains
Know him not.
Man stands as a stranger before all the created.

But man is also a child of creation,
And creation moves within the knowledge of its own extinction.
Extinction and rebirth are the character of creation
And man must inherit the will of creation.

This poem is from Collected Poetry of Thomas A. Ekkens—Early Works.