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hardwood memories
well-rooted, time-tested, safe
~ hiking in mind's woods

Mark Toney © 2021
Poetry form: Haiku - Mark Toney © 2021
karly codr Mar 6
i'm free
well for eleven days...
i can't wait
for the red rocks
and the hours of hiking
and walking through the tiny town
i missed it
last year
after this, we didn't go back to school
this year,
we are

i hope
probably not gonna be active until next week sorry :)
Ingram Jan 28
Looking out over a Mountain View
was my idea of escaping.
But my feelings of
my shortage of happiness,
and my lack of love
only grew.
It wasn’t an escape.
It was emotional poverty with a view.
Flynn Dec 2020
One day I hope to put these feelings down in writing
To find a way to simplify the way these carry me
The smell of worn leather and pine trees in December
A cold wind and a creek half frozen
The line of trees that separate my house from the wilderness
And how some days I wish I could disappear in there with you

We would hunt and forage
forge a path of our own
Play an out of tune guitar around a smoldering fire
We would live in the trees and hide in the grass
You would braid my hair and we would dance barefoot in a clearing
To the sound of cicadas and leaves underfoot

I love, I miss, I want you.
I hope for you.
More than I will ever be able to tell you.
The smell of my leather hunting jacket made me emotional for a future I will never have. Those beat up leather riding boots in my closet make me want to walk until I disappear.
KB Nov 2020
The very air is different in those places so untouched,
smooth and unburdened.
You can fill yourself, let it in with a breath
and it will seek every crack and crevice,
it swirls in the lungs and mends.

You could just about leap -
cast yourself from the very pinnacle of earth,
Forget the stone which proffers you
an open palm to the waiting sky,
Let the renewing air cradle you,
lift you up and twist you around,
show you the world as it sees
the wrinkles in a quilted landscape.

Scramble your fingers
along the jagged earth
to find purchase.

Oh, the drop, the fall,
the catch of breath,
how it sings,
how it calls!
Written for barren peaks and untraversed ridgelines.
Traci Sims May 2017
We were scaling Mount Si
when a cloud rolled in so thick
we had to wipe the mist from our faces.
Our shadows, already growing longer,
disappeared entirely
and the time we measured
by the burning in our legs
and the shortness of our breath
seemed to go with them.
Light no longer came just from above,
it was all around us, equally,
and it was then that I thought part of us
would never return and that moment
would never end, when you gasped
and whispered, LOOK,
your arm outstretched,
and there floating out of the fog
was a ghost, and then a shadow,
and finally stepping onto the rocks
as new as creation itself,
a beautiful, white ram.

From "Bird's Nest In Your Hair" by Brian Jobe
Lawrence Hall Sep 2020
New Hiking Shoes for the Trail Ahead

The road goes ever on and on…

-J.R.R. Tolkien

While I was looking for something else I found
A pair of hiking shoes still in their box
From a year ago – in anticipation
Of a summer vacation that never was

And there was no holiday again this year
It was all coronavirus and hurricanes
I had forgotten those shoes, but here they are
All ready for some sunlit summer road

While I was looking for something else I found
A pair of hiking shoes, and a bit of hope
spacewtchhh Aug 2020
Hovering around
From this mountain on its ground,
Designing venture.
Besides, I've learned the danger.

I've prepared the map and the compass,
But I forgot to eat my breakfast.
Enough is breather from the multimedias --
Forced to pass, ached for the grass.

Lifting my weight up above.
Climbing the top to see the doves.
Gripping tightly, not to plummet.
Mind's fixation on the summit.

this rising brought to a halt
as i stopped in the middle, i could see
the trees, and houses and sea salt
How major? How big is this beauty?

as i lift this weight above, i've felt
this landscape of exception and worth,
my life of insignificance as i melt
how small i am compared to the earth

"and at once i knew I was not magnificent"
i sang as i hike as i taste the holocene
Of  moving outside our comfort zones
Would you think to meet your echoes?
By hiding in the mountains there are choices:

To turn your back on what you have become,
A wander goat or a missionary bird?

To embrace the fear of knowing that you can go beyond,

To hold your breath, bring the mountain into routine being.

Don’t we all have our mountains to climb,
believe it or not
When we do, the view is amazing
by/Angel. XJ
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