Unmapped - Aug 21 2022

 

Unmapped

Aug 21 2022

Once every feature is named

the topography mapped

the landscape surveyed and measured

our due diligence

will be complete;

the earth known,

our duty of care

discharged.

But to name a thing

— the Rogue, the Mad, the Peace —

only seems to confer order,

when really

it does nothing of the sort.

The river runs, regardless,

fish swim upstream,

deer browse its shore.

According to Heisenberg

observing something alters it.

But the river is oblivious

to our regard,

the earth uninterested.

We are mere bystanders

who don't know how little we know.

Still, there's a certain power to naming.

Is the Mad

all rapids and cataracts,

the Peace bucolic?

The Rogue full of mischief

toying with us,

changing course overnight,

transforming

from drought to flood?

And the secluded creek

that runs only in spring,

and was far too small

to bother naming

or even map;

too minor to merit

a thin blue line.

So I will think of something that honours

its pristine water,

the wild beauty

of its steep-sided gorge.

But out of deference

to its untamed nature

will keep the name between us.

No need for the world to know.

No reason to risk desecration

of so privileged a place.