John Himes Poetry

Mountainous thunder:
	full clouds roll beyond
	the hill;
it’s raining somewhere.


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Old snow on the ground
turns into gray thick old ice
as winter deepens.


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In frigid sunshine,
	a bright glare reflects
	into each and every
shadowy corner.


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A barren tree gives shade
with its trunk alone.



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Heart barely beating,
	a yellow-bellied marmot sleeps
til it smells spring blooms.

Sun-scorched rock:
	brick red with streaks
	of black form towering walls
	enclosed by even higher walls




Scorched and brittle,
	junipers and sage
root in the sand and collect every
	drop of water
that passes nearby.




Deep in the canyons:
	a slice of shade,
	a sand-encrusted puddle.




Dripping down the rocks,
	snow-melt on a spring day
	shines opalescent in the sun.





A warble among the junipers—
	first one bird scoots,
	then its friends follow along.




A towering spire, carved
out from the rest of the canyon,
is the work of the millennia.




A tiny stream flows down
	the cliff face,
hardly more than a drop—
	tiny cuts like a chisel.




As the sun sets below the canyon
wall, nightfall seems so near.
It won’t be dark for hours.




What’s hanging onto life
in the remnants of that pool
that’s hardly even mud?




It’s wintertime on the Island in the Sky;
	descend into the canyon
	in search of spring.

As you descend into the canyons, stillness
and silence is everywhere. But don’t be tricked
into assuming that this is a lifeless desert.

Magic is everywhere.

Up in the cliffs, tribes of birdmen
lay their eggs. They patrol the canyons below,
seeking prey to bring back to their young.

Keep an eye out for their signs: brightly colored
feathers on the ground, ranging in size from inches
to two-feet-long tail feathers that are streaked
in chromatic reds, yellows and blues. You may also
hear their calls echoing through the canyons,
a shrieking in the wind.

Descending further into the labyrinth below,
fire is everywhere.
Absorbing the heat of the strong high-desert sun,
unfiltered and day after day, small living flames
flare into life before burning into ash.
On particularly hot days, full-fledged fire elementals
may spawn as well. Keep an eye out
for remnants of their burn: charred juniper trees,
flame-scarred rocks, and charcoal littering the ground.


Avoiding the heat of the day during the hottest months
is the best way to avoid a chance encounter, but, even
in the dead of winter, the sun can still become so intense
that you can never be sure. Take precautions—bring
plenty of water!

One of the rarest encounters in Canyonlands
is the opposite of what you may expect. Deep within
the canyons, especially in shaded areas, you may find
a friendly water spirit. These playful creatures
can assume many forms, from a single smiling droplet
to a rippling fountain that dances in the wind.

These creatures are generous by nature, giving life
to the plants and animals around them. Their power
is most pronounced in the early spring, when the snow-pack
trickles down the rocks and collects in pools below.
Keep an eye out for a patch of bright green,
or even a congregation of butterflies,
and you may catch a glimpse of this kind creature.

Then of course, there’s the legendary bronze dragon
that makes the entire span of over 300,000 acres
into its kingdom. It prefers to hunt at night,
both for pray and treasure, and it’s said that it’s lair
is deep within the canyons
in the most remote parts of the park.

Only the bravest adventurers have dared to seek out
the cruel and territorial dragon. While rumors abound
that some have managed to find and slay its young,
the ancient dragon has yet to be challenged
by anyone who has lived to tell the tale.

Or in our case, a dozen feet up
or down from it.

Did you smell the dumplings cooking,
or did I smell the orchids
through the floorboards?

Even with a mask to cover your dimple,
I saw your eyes smile at me
like sweet pink candy.

Following my nose, I found
juniper and peppermint.
The masks came off.
So now that we’ve assimilated
our germ pools and started calling
each other names, let’s dance.

I want to dance with you while
we watch the world begin to heal.
And even more-so,
I want to work with you
as part of the solution.


Like perilous red boulders above
that hold each other balanced in place,
let’s support each other.
Like the warm sun coming through thin air,
and like clean water for thirsting roots,
let’s nourish each other.
Let’s help each other grow.

We’re in the dark,
and we’re up against darkness,
but let’s not let the darkness creep in
and make us cold.

Luckily,
	we’ve got a cuddle for that.

3 days before the election



Yes; there’s a cold breeze, and
yes; the trees become barren
as days pass, and yes;
even the drums of war echo
off the mountains, their tempo rising.
Yes—even the mornings seem dark.

But look at this little sprout,
barely popping its head out
of the soil. We don’t know—it could be
nettles or thorns. But I have hope
that it will grow and bloom.

Reaching the peak is tangible.
From beating heart to strained lungs,
from the unfiltered sunlight to
an exposed breeze, making it
to the top is immutable.

How often, when we hear
the dusk warblers, do we hold
onto so much more than
“this is what I say”?

Climbers sometimes leave monuments
at the peak; though they’re just
balanced rocks, waiting for a storm
to pick up, they give testament.
They declare:
I too am tangible.

In the smallest hours
of the American night,
I strain my ears to hear
rush hours
on the Yamanote line.

お風呂の後
光は障子
に来ている

After a bath,
light is coming
in through the paper door

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温泉の中
お水は富士山
鏡なった

In the hot spring
the water became
a mirror of Mount Fuji

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日没に
一緒に月を見た
江ノ島で

At sunset
we watched the moon
together on Enoshima

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雲の中で
山さんの顔は
不思議だった

The mountain’s face
inside the clouds
was mysterious

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この神社で
本当にトトロ
が木でいる？

Does Totoro really
live in the tree
at this shrine?

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空と山
の会うところは
ちょうこうだ

The place where
the sky and mountain met
was a blush

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沈黙から
鳥一羽歌
風みたい

From the silence
came the song a single
bird like the wind

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お父さんは
この風の中
もいますか？

Father, are you
also
in this wind?

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疲れ時
に暖かい茶
はいいねー

Isn’t a warm cup
of tea so nice
when you’re tired?

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小雨降る
時に祖谷そば
は正解

When it’s gently raining,
Iya soba
is the right answer

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曇りの日に
影がない
原爆ドーム
の下で

There are no shadows
on a cloudy day
under the A-Bomb Dome

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遠い声
が聞いているの
静か胸

Hearing distance
voices:
a quiet chest

*************************

電車で
サラリーマン
の前は本があるけど
目が動いてない

Though the salaryman
on the train is holding
a book, his eyes
aren’t moving

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ENGLISH ORIGINALS

Yesterday’s moon:
barely perceptible
through tonight’s clouds

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Wind coursing through
a bamboo grove:
chimes interrupted
by Chinese cameras

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Autumn deepens
despite the sunny afternoon
after morning rain

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You last flowers hanging
on the boughs, how ever
will you stand against the frost?  

I want to bring you home like a potted plant,
keep you in the sun, water you, watch you
grow and breathe your air. Like a potted plant,
your roots would grow denser by the day;

as would mine, growing together with you
in this cozy little pot. We’ll dream
about budding and blooming as our roots
twine themselves around each other. We’ll stake
out a garden where we can sit
through the snow and endure the frost–

at least until spring rains come
and sprouts awaken from our soil
in anticipation of coming summer suns.

I came home in the deepening
days of winter soon after you arrived.
The snow had left by the time
you came into my home, and, like stirring
embers of last night’s fire, we raked
the softly smoldering coals
out from the Ashes. They sparked
and flared; as the flames grew
warmer, we huddled closer to the flames.
It rose into your cheeks then glowed
from your eyes as a pale-blue
light began trickling through the window.

While flying south, the songbird feels
a wind in its wings that is new yet familiar.
Spring, dawn, the changing of climates,
or the passing of one time to another
is hardly strange; perhaps the grass
is longer, the sun rose earlier, or even
the rolling fields lead to mountains
in their distance. Flying south, see the leaves
shake and sway as they change from brown
to red to green. A flash of color: a wing
or an eye among the palm fronds.
Come morning, two bluebirds sing
to each other and the sun.