clouds carried in by a wind whose song
is born of lodgepole pine, sitka spruce, hemlock
born of a whisper passed from stand to stand until
all trees join in the melody, adding their voices to the harmony
ferns and moss a contrabasso to this song, a symphony
carried by wind
peaks in this valley have lost
their indigenous names, have been christened
with unholy waters–Whymper, Heather, Landaler
El Capitan
clouds thick as down tuck up to the chins
of these wooded slopes, whispering a forgotten
lullabye of rain
close your eyes, oh valley of the Cowichan, the Mesachie
and receive the blessing of the rain