Yes; I could estimate the grains of sand
the Colorado carries year by year
carving with his crooked and cursive hand.
But such reckoning is but a cashier’s
math yielding a number I cannot know
for in my mind the zeros disappear.
Nor can I figure a new fallen snow
except through means and volumes, heights and weight;
I name the number, but the value, no.
I understand that some can calculate
the distance between stars but the pleasure
of that endless sky no mortal tongue can state.
We play at sums but fathom not the measure;
let me not count the coin and miss the treasure.
Fathoming the Measure: words about the Grand Canyon
