by Howard E Friedman

From melted snow the Kaweah is born, 
Which carved the Crystal Cave from marble deep; 
The steady flow of water, night and morn, 
From mountain dark where restless spirits sleep.

The rapids roar in deafening, wild refrain, 
While eddies swirl in pools of silent grace; 
This river feeds the thirsty, sun-drenched plains, 
I hold this sacred moment in its place.

It binds the heights of this vast mountain range, 
Yet marks the boundary of the further view; 
Since ancient times, the sages spoke of change, 
A river never sleeps, its depths renew.

Waters fast and slow move on in their quest, 
I still myself; the moment gives me rest.

This poem was crafted in collaboration with Gemini, an AI assistant, to assist with structural refinements and rhyme schemes.

photo: Kaweah River, Three Rivers, CA, the foothills of the Sierra Nevadas June 2026 Howard E Friedman