I recall your eyes
As I navigate the frostbitten trails
I recall your smile
As the wind combs the trees
I recall your voice
As waterfalls crash around me
I can feel your essence
As surreal as the sky
On any given mountain
I know I'm not alone
You are always with me
No matter where I go
As the dusk kissed the dawn
the moon starts to shy away
fireflies replace the stars
lovely birds start a lively hum
gradually waking up the sleeping sun
Slowly the flowers will flourish
waiting for the first sunbeam
that will pass thru the dashing trees
inside the pale green mountain
where unfathomable beauty hides
Soon as the moon bid goodnight
cold day air is born
perfect for the orange juice sky
dancing clouds will make a way
for the mighty sun to show its might
The first strike of the light
turns everything into emerald green
the energy is renewed
and the mountain is proud
for the wonder it holds will be seen
The bushes, the trees
the insects, the animals
the flowers, the grass
the rocks, the pebbles
all live in harmony
Didn’t know such beauty exist
wonders of nature truly a gift
And only those sucker for beauty
will dare to find, such places
where magic lies
Be the flower amongst the grass
That blossoms like it’s always spring
Climb a mountain, touch the clouds
Feel the air in your face and hair
Soar up high, spread your wings
There’s so much beauty you’ll need to see
There’s so much in life you’ll need to live
I sit, I glare and patiently wait,
I’m angry and tense, I warn you, mate!
Back off! Beware! Don’t push your fate,
One more step, and it will be late!
I don’t fancy blocking yer road,
No, just protecting my abode.
Walk your way now, I’ll walk mine,
Respect my fences and you’ll be fine!
I left my mittens in the Smokies.
It was that night at Maddron Bald on the ridge
after we'd hiked from Davenport Gap --
12 miles, 4,000 feet.
The girl gave us icicles.
Dazed and breathless, we pitched the tent
and scrambled into our sleeping bags.
The morning sun felt good -- Sterling Ridge
on our left, Cosby far below to the right;
Mt. Guyot with its spruces and firs;
lunch at Tri-Corner Knob; then down through
the rhododendrons and mud to McGhee Springs.
Raven Fork -- the beech tree, the icy water,
the boulders, the sunlight.
Cabin Flats and Smokemont -- the rain,
the people with pancakes.
Campfires, backpacks, flapjacks, barley;
sunshine, lichens, blisters, . . . wood-smoke.
clear winding streams
divide wandering dreams
cool forests filled with evergreens
down twisted trail at deadfalls cross
I took rest upon soft bed of moss
in chorus with ever dimming skies
hear lone coyote's distant cries
fading echoes on the wind
his search and mine
will never end