Art Gephyr


Traveling in the four corners of nations
Now elevated by the movement of history
I walked across an ancient ocean bed
In silence with a boy just half my age
By meaningless years, but twice in spirit

With a head towering high as the sun
Tall is the ancestry of Midwestern dutch
Land locked in the bread basket of Eden
As harvest wheat ready for shearing
Lays stiff and straight behind wide ears

The unconventional jar of a misaligned jaw
Furrow of an ever gaping mouth
Marks the permanent plow of a fault line,
And leaves to imagination how the static stature
At present might change by tectonic shifts

The earth lay bare beneath our feet
Undressed of green, unveiled of life
But rich in tales of epic struggles
Meant for eyes skilled in embracing
The rough aged skin for all its rugged beauty

For the moment, we stroll with like minds
Avoiding the straight path of sandy toils
Skeletal shells, a million forgotten species
To choose a wandering path solid on granite
Ledges fingered with golden verdigris

Climbing up a pinnacle, we viewed what is,
What was, and I with muted sadness sighed
In quiet acceptance at what never will be,
As the indifferent hand of time steals all
Irrespective of scale or purpose

In contrast of confidence, sure familiarity
He closed his eyes and plunged into black waters
And emerged at the interface between two worlds
With a half smile, half grimace, uncomfortably happy
In too-cool waters balanced by too-warm air

And I too found myself inexplicably submerged
Surrounded by silver ribbons of fish riding
The softly rippled water, each with a ray
Of shimmering light, above coral rainbow
Painted with the delicate breath of algae

He caught my surprise and shared at length
Adventures past with an open fearlessness,
He extended invitation once our current tour complete,
But I with immature reluctance returned only
A hopeful promise I knew I could not keep.