Palisades New Jersey

The raw power beams forth just balanced by

The movement of the river.

The road next to the lapping waters slopes up.

The shade of the morning Sun continues all afternoon

In the shadow of the cliffs

From the waters view they mark the entrance to the valley

Like a single door swung closed of a double door opening

Half of a view that will come latter as the river cuts through mountains on either side

They are both home beauty and an imposing end

Of natures beauty in preparation to the mind and eye

For the scape of steel and glass set lower down on the opposing bank

In the hazy distance, a continual loosing view shed

To the meekly power of human efforts.

Four hundred feet in the air straight up

At the summers edge looking upon trees look like pillows to jump on

They hide the fallen rock scrapes that tumble to the water.

Here and there the markings of man etched, cut or cemented

Against the Palisades, are roads for feet or wheels.

Rolling low to high, and over your shoulder always to the West

The dark black stone and eagles perch sore the spirit impressed

Comfort protection from westerly gales that willy wall and mark

The waters that never seem to claw at the cliffs.

They defy time and make the present an event

By their immortal gaze across and beyond horizons

The Palisades parade at attention to the West,

And we walk or ride below the scale of unison

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