Loma
Prieta
The centuries unfurl a Story
we of the word must tell,
and the great primal Earth, Sea & Sky
compose a Melody accompanying,
the properly attuned Ear would hear.
And you, Loma Prieta, your watchful Eye
scans
the vectors of Time.
*
Loma Prieta,
your Eye scans to the north, east & west
& beholds the fire-scarred & parched, stubble-barren peaks,
beholds the rich farm-happy valleys & ocean-bound rivers & sloughs of bird
multitudes;
beholds long ribbon highways streaming the thousand-lit lacing streets
of the burgeoning silicon web of Technos.
Your Eye follows redwood-dark rhythms to the broad blue table of sea—
But scanning to the south,
to the south especially,
you gaze upon the shining maiden breast, the
Bay waters of
Here dwelled for centuries the beautiful one, the golden.
Loma Prieta,
who was first to gaze upon you?
Did some earliest people without record gaze upon you,
perhaps worship you?
The Ohlone certainly gazed upon you—
How many generations lived & died under your watchful Eye?
Did they celebrate the beautiful one, witness her dance of seduction
shimmer upon these waters, her toes dipping in & light skipping,
with laughing glances & teasing & running,
under endless summer skies;
the beautiful one loving long throughout nights of fog rapture?
Did voyagers in mean, coast-scouring ships gaze upon you?
They saw the beautiful one.
A hundred years of reports & rumors inspired others
to search out the legendary one.
Governor Portolá & party journeyed up the coast’s golden spine,
and arrived in this land, south at your feet, October 1769.
Did the soldiers salute your watchful Eye? Did the Fathers?
Did they joyfully behold the beautiful one?
Driving their bloodied Cross into the body of Goddess,
that flesh must suffer, the maiden be crucified—
For what purpose?
Salvation of soul, denying the living body
of soul...
Loma Prieta,
how you watched the years unfurl as a flag unfurls
the proud colors of a nation—
Of this land, such a Story you could tell—
A Story far back how many thousands of years of original peoples,
until fatefully came the day of the arrival of priest & soldier
wielding the once civilizing, cruel forces of Bible & of gun.
Inland the coast, missions were soon built,
& years followed of Spanish horsemen & cattle grazing & wild villas;
years going forward of the bounty of farm fields, of orchards
plotted;
years of sawmills & redwood harvesting, whole mountainsides
slashed to desolation; years of the land’s remarkable regeneration;
years of resort hotels built, seaside cottages, ornate Victorians,
new generations arriving;
& a railroad across beach & flats, & landmark of lighthouse you saw;
all the fishing boats, whaling ships, the fishing & whaling towns.
You saw storm-battered wharves & visiting presidential ships,
a Boardwalk attraction year after year entertaining thousands;
and streaming over the mountain a highway, & new communities
& new industry you saw, from
to
Loma Prieta,
you saw the big power plant at Moss Landing
go up,
shopping plazas & malls; upon a hill, a university...
Loma Prieta,
you have watched it all, the unfurling flag
that tells of the Story the centuries tell.
And you saw the beautiful one perpetually resurrect,
even as the Cross denied, even as the Cross denied.
Loma Prieta,
O watchful peak! watching the Story of this land unfurl—
From Neary Lagoon, for ten years I have watched you,
imagining what your dark Eye has seen.
I have watched your quiet, searching glance
against the milk-blue sky;
watched when storm clouds gathered about you;
when fog banks rolled in & veiled you;
when sheets of dark morning cloud lifted
to reveal you—
And behind your tireless Eye, a secret.
You have long awaited—
Loma Prieta,
thousands of years you watched the beautiful one
skip upon these waters,
her dance perform to the grand seasonal Melody.
And all these years, yet another was awaited—
Goddess overcomes the Cross
through suffering
through the birth of another—
Deeper is another Gold.
From these waters, Loma Prieta, another beautiful one
is rising
rising—
another Story to tell…
1988