Mountains, like big-shouldered angels
guard this valley from drought.
Rivers run chortling down their arms
at some aqueous joke only they know,
to plunge down the canyons
wetting montane feet.
I adore these potent energies,
the gloss of green everywhere,
and it seems to me we humans
can’t help but be happy here,
where all things conspire to pour life
down our open throats and tug our strings
to dance, dance and sing.