you walk along
the silent strand
shadowed
on the horizon
we carried burdens
for months and miles
only to collapse
when we dropped them
in the sand
and watched the tide
bury our sorrows at sea
you walk along
the silent strand
shadowed
by quiet and calm
Up here there is no shelter
from the sun or storm,
only rock, grass, wild flowers,
water, and the tree line
far below. I sit like a guru
gazing across the valley
at mountaintops miles away
who, like stone masters,
disregard my glance, impart
wonder beyond description.
the storm is fierce,
but mountains know
not to resist.
** Photo: Mount Bierstadt, August 5, 2017
mountains stacked
upon mountains.
layered rows of rock
compressed by time
and the crushing
weight of trauma
and energy,
colliding to create
a scarred version
of perfection.
** The photo was taken a few days ago after hiking just below the summit of Mt. Bierstadt in Colorado.
My wife and I love the mountains. Leaving here in a few days will be difficult, but I have plenty of pictures and memories to jump start my writing when we get home.
The road is worn by years
of heavy wear, and I breathe
the familiar scent of trees,
brush, and wild flowers mixed
with slow decay. But then
it was there, around a turn,
and startled my mid-day trance:
three small stones stacked
upon a stump, still wet
from their home in the creek.
You were nowhere in sight.
New trails mean new chances to be surprised by the wonder of the outdoors. This is a view from the Burning Bear trail in Parker County, CO.
Awaiting the Images 