In Praise of Creation
by Lowell Jaeger 

Beneath these wings, the rippled plains
undulate in light and shadow, ascending
toward rocky steppes and snowcapped summits,
evergreen slopes on the eastern front melding
mile by mile into the Great Basin’s redrock and sage.

How could I do less than stare and wonder?
This planet’s flesh-lovely form. Wish my hands
could trace and caress these shapes like shoulders
and hips and thighs. Voluptuous joy:
a cross-country flight, window seat view.
                                                                                                 Or better still,
a coast-to-coast road trip, downshifting to strain and climb
twisting switchbacks, the spit and slip of the tires’ grip.
The engine’s drag easing across the divide, down the other side,
following a cloudburst gathered in streams, the river
leveling into the valley below.
                                                                   Or to pedal the backroads,
crunching through loose gravel, sweating across terrain,
inhaling breezes perfumed with bloom and decay,
stopping to rest my pulse in the shade of generous green.

None of these will outlast memories of my barefoot youth,
wandering game trails, sunlight
gilding each rock and meadow, the dirt squeezed
between my toes, birdsong whistling through my teeth,
and my small heart cradled in the arms of each new day.
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About barkingsycamores 183 Articles
Barking Sycamores is a literary journal entirely edited and operated by queer neurodivergent people of color. We publish poetry, artwork, short fiction (beginning with Issue 3), creative nonfiction (beginning with Issue 8), and hybrid genre work (beginning with Issue 9) by emerging and established neurodivergent writers as well as essays on neurodiversity and literature and book reviews (beginning with Issue 10).

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