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Arianna Mar 14
Battlements crown the mountain,
Aloof, watchful
King of the forest.

But the crown falls, clattering;
Jewels turn to bricks, scattered
Toppling down the mountainside,

While the sovereign himself
Is torn limb from limb
By the ground where he stands.

Moss and mortar
Give way to mud,
Tumbling 'twixt the trees,

And the victor is clear
Where the forest tiers
Have overgrown skeletons of stone.
Inspired by the breathtaking view (quite literally breathtaking, if you count the hike it takes to get there) from an old medieval defense wall.

Ensemble Caprice - "Präambulum": https://youtu.be/S8Xn-JLgI1s
StoryTallinn Feb 17
Owl screaming in the night
Bears looking for a fight
At the end of the path
Near the lake, a cottage

There I will rest
Healing my feet
In the chimney
Fire burning bright

When morning comes
With no danger in sight
Then, I will carry on
Building my own freedom
SomeOneElse Feb 15
It's been raining all night and day
And I know just what you'll say
You won't go out when it rains
Except to hike a mountain range
But I long to be with you
Hold you tight the whole night through

I want to be your hiking trail
Or the sea on which you sail
I long to be your fairytale
Let you explore in all detail
Just want to be your hiking trail

Forecast says rain again today
So in your house you decide to stay
Won't go to parties, run errand or shop
When outside there are raindrops
When it Rains you go on strike
Cept maybe for one of your  hikes

I want to be your hiking trail
Or the sea on which you sail
I long to be your fairytale
Let you explore in all detail
Just want to be your hiking trail

Doesn't matter rain or shine
I just want to make you mine
We could go out or just stay in
Either way with you I win
I just want to be with you
To hold you tight the whole night through

So let me be your hiking trail
Or the sea on which you sail
And let me be your fairytale
To explore in all detail

I just want to be your hiking trail
My first attempt at writing a country song. Written for and inspired by a friend.
Before

My feet are big
And growing ever bigger.
Large, wide,
And filling every shoe.
They stick out from me
Making flats look ridiculous.
They are like life rafts,
Falling to the side like pillows
When encountering resistance.

After

My feet are long
And growing ever stronger.
Supportive, storied,
And deserving special care.
When pointed, they are elegant,
Skeletal and muscular, even when in heels.
They are like canoes,
Chiseled and carved with love,
Gliding forward with intention.
Yordi Jan 29
High up on a mountain
The grains of these rocks define my memories
On a cloudy day
Cold breeze coming my way
Inhale the fresh air
As you see everyone stare
Withought a worry or care
You keep climbing and climbing
Distracted by the view
The only thing missing is you
It was a nice view
Susie Jan 10
I'm not an artist
I just say I am
And then I don't draw anything

I'm not a writer
I just say I am
And then I dont write anything

I'm not a hiker
I just say I am
And then I don't go anywhere

I'm not depressed
I just say I am
And then I don't do anything
It's fine though. Right?
It's as if we're climbing
over mountains,
except by some cruel trick
we trek along the fault line
rather than across
and as we crest each painful saddle
there is no choice
but to slide back down the other side,
blistered, limping, starved,
and carrying too much weight,
hoping the next peak
will be the last.

Except,
it's nothing like climbing mountains,
for at least in the mountains
I can breathe.
Austin Draper Dec 2018
Forced to wave, the trees
With glorious submission
Wind as a master
Light shakes out, Grass dances too
Nature is outside the lines.
I love to hike, and I meditated on the top of a peak one time and IDK, thought of this Haikuish thing. ****** alert :) (5 7 5 7 7)
Stephe Watson Nov 2018
The sun's setting,
though it may leave you darkening,
is the start of the burning
far under your soles.

The browning now crinkling of
Summer's endlesseeming greening
is but the start of Springtime's
asylum in Xylem.
Phloem's sweet ware will
flow in 'em somewhere
down the line.
It’s pithy, I know
but life is born in death.
And though, come Fall,
trees seem seemingly sapped,
there's an inspiration transpiring.


The firepit's cooling
it's embers cast only shadows
and shades of memories of warmth
and story
and light...
None gather round, the gloomy.

The dormant circle
an ashen reduction
of oak and of fir
but its blackdust when wetted
(yes, ink!)
and dipped in by brush
will one day,
with luck,
be the source of a poet's
enlightening words.

The monarchs have gone -
a silent orange rustle
and, all at once,
the milkweeds go dry;
the once-green
stalks stand stock still,
Rods of Asclepias whose
seedlings are ever
the earliest snows.

Leaving home:
wherever the Earthbreaths may
take them -
bleak, brokenhearted,
hope in a coma...
How unlike the joy of the
flutterbys whose time now
has fluttered by, a chorus
as uttered by
the ungiven hope
who, though unasked,
has wandered the winds
to bring its daughters
(each healing, each hopeful)
a deathgiven panacea
to lands now in their
own limited unlimited Spring.



And you!  I know
your (sic) fiercely pretending
not to be crying.
****, to never've cried.
I know your lifework is
'manly' (your words) or
some other idiocy (my words)
and unbroken.  ****, unbent.

But think on this:
if she's gone far enough,
far enough along,
far enough away;
enough time gone by
since you broke into One
('broke in two' is NOT how it feels),
if enough not enough Her
has passed,
then she's also
more than halfway back
to you,
to Whole.

Nothing can go,
nothing is lost
for there is no
'away' within this Here.
No one now, either
at a loss -
for the knowing
is nigh.
Even the knowing
cannot be going
for long 'fore returning;
the yearning is turning
from far-off to nearby.



The Sky lives as well
in every dark puddle.
Its blues, now on Earth
where all even All is at Home.
For John Shreffler whose images are the sole inspiration for this poem.  Thank you, sir! :)
Losing vision on the mountain, sun begins to set
Find us standing at the summit, shaped by silhouette
Search for answers in the wild, or find inner peace
Let what you know begin to flow, spiritual release
As worries numb, answers will come, time is only now
Succumb to senses, drop defenses, find oneself somehow
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