Just a small addition to Rip-Rap for you  - another piece by Gary Snyder someone I admired for a long time  - Piute Creek
       One granite ridge
       A tree would be enough
       Or even a rock, a small creek,
       A barkshred in a pool
       Hill beyond hill, folded and twisted
       Tough trees crammed
       In thin stone fractures
       A huge moon on it all, is too much.
       The mind wanders. A million
       Summers, night air still and the rocks
       Warm. Sky over endless mountains.
       All the junk that goes with being human
       Drops away, hard rock wavers
       Even the heavy present seems to fail
       This bubble of a heart.
       Words and books
       Like a small creek of a high ledge
       Gone in the dry air.

       A clear attentive mind
       Has no meaning but that
       Which sees is truly seen.
       No one loves rock, yet we are here.
       Night chills. A flick
       In the moonlight
       Slips into Juniper shadow:
       Back there unseen
       Cold proud eyes
       Of Cougar or Coyote
       Watch me rise and go.

As Donald Rumsfeld said death gives war a bad reputation.