Wilderness Retreat

His is a world of noise
the cacophony
the downtown scene
walking from the train to
the overgrown obelisk with
windows running up all eighteen floors
blaring taxis, screeching brakes
buses hissing and grumbling
backhoes, jackhammers
shouts and sirens
trucks beeping to back up
He sought some time away
from the grating racket
sought a place that would not require music
piped through white wires to
white buds stuffed in his ears
downloaded tunes to drown out the din

Glad for the pleasant room
the comfortable bed
the eight straight hours of slumber
he dresses and goes downstairs
grazes lightly
at the complimentary
continental breakfast bar
not his favorite thing
not so much a meal as a feed
he dosi-does to miss the guy
backing away from the pastries
then reaches around grabbing
wrapped and sealed
plastic feeding tools

Things get better from there
driving out to open spaces
to the trail head
in the high desert
alone in a lonely place,
surprisingly lush
full of life
sagebrush, grasses, creosote, mesquite
red-blossomed ocotillo, spiny cholla
palo verde full of tiny yellow flowers
He set off on his hike
from the desert floor
up into the canyon

The city sounds were gone, but
not yet that other noise
ideas churning in his mind
the voice in his head
with its critical edge
the internal harangue
sundry jibes and injunctions hatched
from strain, pressure and shame

Breathing hard from the climb
he rests on a rock
a long drink from his canteen refreshes him
the hawk overhead silently soars
against the backdrop of the rich blue sky
his thoughts soften and slow
to roughly the pace of clouds drifting
toward distant mountains that form
a jagged horizon
across the desert valley
and he is overcome
with substantial calm
a palpable comfort
as solitude and this sumptuous scene
swallows him
while the full volume of silence engulfs him
he drowns in the crescendo of quiet
transforming him into
a reverent guest of the wilderness.