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, In mountain light 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, And 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