πάντων χρημάτων μέτρον ἐστὶν ἄνθρωπος,

τῶν μὲν ὄντων ὡς ἔστιν, τῶν δὲ οὐκ ὄντων ὡς οὐκ ἔστιν.

"Man is the measure of all things: of things which are, that they are,

and of things which are not, that they are not"




After an evening of snow fall, blinking in late-morning sun, after traveling over four overlooks at Canyon de Chelly, I gazed down to the canyon below upon Spider Rock-- all whispery quiet, its sandstone spire worn and shaped as by a river, movement of time's particles. According to Navajo legend, Spider Woman once sat upon Spider Rock, weaving the cosmos, her awe gathering us all together. I believe poetry to be just like that – a quiet whispering, a calling forth, shamanistic, extending our bounds, reconnecting threads and lines, binding our corners. Poetry may often seem at our periphery, the act itself of writing poetry existential, like whispering something deeply held, into our Canyon. But poetry always engenders seeds latent within our grounds, remaining vital, propelling us unexpectedly in furrowing waves that may overcome, if we stop and listen.