Kansas City Perspective

vacation story showing contrasts... first as a story, then as a poem

 I live in beautiful Kansas City, the City of Fountains.  It’s a narrow world, filled with inward focused tiny yards and 6 ft. privacy fences. It’s a world where steep hills often block the view, where a distant vista is sky scrapers 2 miles away, where 60 to 80 foot deciduous oak, maple, walnut trees are everywhere filling the view, where rich black loamy soil easily grows grass gardens and weeds, and where the sounds of people, traffic, revelry, trains, sirens, and hand guns can be heard 24 hours a day.  

I endure a self-made hectic, pressured, scheduled, life on a one acre lot with 1,600 organized square feet under roof on an old street with mature shade trees obscuring sunsets and sunrises. 

I love this because I’m surrounded by family, love, growth, and the promise of children’s futures. Because roots are deep and I know what to expect.

But today I stand in a wide place, a place with grandeur, a place of larger magnitude.  I stand at 12,860 feet above sea level on Bridger Peak in the Sierra Madre section of the Continental Divide in south central Wyoming.  Cool thin air fills my lungs. Only the sound of wind through the trees and rocks, a distant bird ‘scree,’ and an occasional chipmonk scamper breach the silence.

I slowly turn around and behold beneath the large sky east past Battle Peak to the high desert plains, Encampment, Wyoming with Snowy Ridge pass beyond, with it’s Mirror Lake holding its reflection through the seasons.  And I look slightly south to Black Hall mountain where I stood yesterday.  

I see southeast to Long’s Peak where I know Trail Ridge Road descends to Grand Lake and southwest to Rabbit ears Pass and Hahn’s Peak above Mt Werner where skiers descend into Steamboat Springs Colorado.

I look west to Wyoming’s high desert plateau region and north along a series of other peaks on the Continental Divide.

The grandeur, the scale, the reality are breathtaking and humbling.  I absorb the view through clear, clean air 50 miles away.  I imprint the view into my heart and mind for transport and review in the future.

Centered on top of this natural monument is a small metal building, a steel tower and a crumbling stone structure. They are testaments to man’s arrogance and to nature’s ability to prevail and to patiently overcome.  I look down to the perspective-shrunk tiny trail traversed to reach this towering pinnacle of nature and anticipate the return trip.

I do not belong here, but am proud to have visited this rare place.

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rewritten as a poem:

beautiful Kansas City 

the City of Fountains

boulevards, parks, and steep hills

rich black soil, but no mountains

inward focused private yards 

narrow hectic pressured places 

oak, maple, and walnut trees

grace and shade open spaces 

rich, black, loamy humus

growing grass, gardens, and weeds

family roots are deep and strong

my grandchildren meet my needs 

one acre with a nice home 

I’ve a self-made, scheduled life 

sounds of people, traffic, trains

and handguns fired for fun, or strife 

today I’m on vacation

an untamed place, filled with grandeur

I stand on Bridger mountain

a Wyoming peak voyeur

close to 13,000 feet

a wide, unpressured vista

in the Sierra Madre

the trees a color fiesta

cool thin air filling my lungs

a cleansing, happy sensation

sounds of wind and a bird ‘scree’

strong awareness of creation

eye level cloud puffs float

in blue voluminous sky

breathtaking grandeur and scale

I imagine I could fly

east over Battle peak

to Encampment in the plains

and Snowy Ridge beyond

where Mirror Lake’s image remains

slightly south is Blackhall Mountain

where I stood yesterday 

further South is Long’s Peak

another place to play

South is Rabbit Ears Pass

and southwest is Hahn’s Peak

Mt. Werner and Steamboat Springs

the place to ski I seek

the region to my west 

is high desert plateau

a series of other peaks 

to the North do stately show

center atop this grand peak

a crumbling building and tower

symbol of man’s arrogance

testament to nature’s power

I look down to the tiny trail 

traversed to reach this place

anticipate the return trip

and know I will not race

I lock this experience

into my heart and mind

to recall on busy days

when my life feels in a bind

I’m proud to have seen this place

but the city of fountains

my home and family call me

and will always trump the mountains

Reviews

[papaed]

I thank you for reading and for your great review. I've moved around the country, experienced a number of different sub cultures. They all have positives and negatives. In the end, the city where I spent my childhood is the most comfortable. The rhythm is a little off in places, but I enjoyed getting the message across in this form. I've half-feared this site was dying and have not contributed here for a long time. Good to see some action. This isn't the only piece I've posted that I wonder if anyone has ever read.
Peace,

[pasdepoisson]

I really like both versions of this piece, but the poetic version stands out to me: strong, clear images, a sense of awe.

At the center is the willing choice to return to domesticity after having viewed the raw grandeur of nature. After all the splendor of grand spaces is indifferent to us, the humble observer, and home is something else entirely.

The rhymes work well. I would have loved to see a rhyme for "Scree", just for... novelty? Lol.