a note from skógafoss

words fail us at nearly every turn.
wrapped in a web of ideas
about how things work
and pushed to justify inherited beliefs
which form the ground of our understanding
is it any wonder that faced
with unlacquered reality
there’s nothing left to say —
and what would you offer anyway
to a waterfall that has no need
of your dreams as cold water spills
downward from the very mountain
which formed it when no one was around
to see and how it will still stand secure
in this place strong and majestic
stretching out into a timeless
count of tomorrows long
after our bones have turned to dust.