Yosemite from Ansel’s Lens

Ansel Adams Sentinel Dome, Yosemite National Park

The lines in the photo

Startle the senses;

They soothe both the depths

And the surface

Of a soul

That scales the monolith.

Thin reeds, glass-like,

Melt into shades

Muted, yet crystalline.

Knotty wood chunks,

Dead before the lens,

Reappear, alive.

Such dark fronts for

Soft, grey backgrounds.

Such a suchness of beyond.