It took a long time 
to climb the log ladders 
bolted onto the face
of the ancient cliff.

Finally I stumbled
into the small ceremonial kiva 
to sit in dust
at a heavenly height.

I could almost touch 
the tops of the pine trees,
tall & thin & throbbing 
like a choir. I could almost

believe the saint’s words— 
You cannot wander anywhere 
that will not aid you— 
and by believing mean

accept: there is 
no place you can go
that will let you keep pretending 
you're not lost.

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