For a moment in the movie I was moved—
removed from the chaotic struggle for power,
the clumsy bad actors, the sick intrigue.
For a moment, the song sang for me,
free from the fetters of this flesh to float
on eagles’ wings above the discord of humanity.
For a moment, the photograph forgave me,
took me in and gave me eyes to see
the simple splendor of reality.
For a moment, I was the poem: it wrote me
beneath sharp peaks of granite scree
sunk deep into a blue, blue sky reflected
on Sierra snowmelt, white clouds passing.
What for the art have we to offer for release
but moments marked where we found peace.