I need to backpack again
not to get away
but to go in – deeply
to sightline’s ample expanse
that builds with one’s willingness to look
in light that blankets itself across the breathing canvas
that differs in concept and perception
more than in different months and minds
but as an elevated mirage
these inaccessible peaks and valleys of the rockies
have trails few travel this time of year
at altitudes that invite only a few birds and critters
and serious mountaineers making their preparations for their
“conquering of the seven summits”
I would gladly join either group, if there are openings
but would also be quite content with
my earbuds in my pocket
the chilled alpine winds through my wool beanie
trekking slowly over rock, ice and snow
I need to backpack again
to see the shades that would present themselves
to reflect in all reflection
to breathe slower
breathing out toxins and anxieties
that have been allowed to enter my humdrum, my rhythm
effecting and infecting my organs
to allow my lungs unfettered access
to all the fresh altitude it would like
to blind my eyes on the snow-capped cloudless afternoons
where tea and coffee are most pleasant
where a sand county almanac can be read
where my muscles gain power, endurance, fortitude
where thoughts of loved ones fondly skew themselves
where I am neither king nor extra
but a small dragon – limitations and capacities equally known
where emotion and temperament need not invent themselves
in the electron exchange within, but arriving from the west
I can see it all, I start to desire it all
from the front door of my office
it’s calling now, I need to go