God's Lake

Here at God's lake
It doesn't pay
To be too jaded.
After all, it isn't
The vertical drop
Or the thunder of falling
That counts;
It's how we got here
And how we will go--
The heartpounding rise
And the risky descent
Give us time to reflect.
Tradespeople all
With stockpiles of stories,
We ante up anecdotes
Fresh and retreaded:
My life for yours,
And: Isn't it something?
And: Hurry up, children,
There isn't much time!

Here on Bog's lake
The hotel-bound ferry
Is crewed by a boy-prince.
He tells us the legend
Of BOK and creation,
While out of the speakers
A velvety Elvis--
Alive in the lake-depths,
Eternally youthful--
Croons evermore ballads.

Here at Gob's lake
The weather is perfect,
(And how could it not be?)
The dinners are raucous,
The sky's rife with divers,
The ponies are peppy,
The kiosks sell starshine.
Who cares if the forecast
Says showers by nightfall?
Tomorrow we visit
Some underearth chasms
And walk through the darkness--
Today we're in light.