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blank Sep 2024
i get lost on purpose
    drive into the mountains like
    maybe i’m waiting for a cliff

   like maybe route 44 will go off the grid
    unmap itself
from my neurons and from google both

i brake disgusted
    reminded of the guy who took the hairpin too fast
    and didn’t even make a dent in the ridge
reminded how it looms so large with every rev
    till all i see is rock
   , road
   , and impossibly the flightiest glimpse of

   vanishing point

so distant from the guy who escaped the sky

i pull over next to smoking trucks and their smoking drivers
silhouetted against a valley so vast it may as well be nothing
    a pipedream projected somewhere
    beyond
     some etching from the silurian period
    that i won’t understand (not even when i’m older)

i’m sorry i’m late

i get lost on purpose
    but i still repeat myself:
the second the county signs change color
    i’m shivering at the lookout
    i'm swinging around and glancing nervously at the sun
i'm slamming my brakes at the hairpin
    neither earth nor air nor new
   just home.

sorry i’m late
but i’m here.
    i parked at the end of the driveway
   like always.
--written 2/22/23--
Saanvi Sep 2024
Fog and mist rising,
And then disappearing behind the peaks.
Fog and mist rising
From the lake as if
The water itself is burning beneath its lurky surface.
Fog and mist rising and dissolving into the meadows,
Painting the grassland in grey and white.
Fog and mist rising and nestling in the deodars,
Reflecting the icy surface of the water in its vapour.
Fog and mist rises higher and higher than the mountain peaks as if teasing the ***** of the hill.
Fog and mist rising and tainting the hillside until nothing is visible,
Not even the roads in haunted small towns.
Fog and mist rising from nowhere and covering the hills
In blue and grey and white.
Fog and mist rising like an old curse after the rainfall dances.
Fog and mist rising and then disappearing
behind the peaks,
Where there is only the open sky.
Fog and mist holds secrets within....
Lyla Aug 2024
I felt the harvest
Though I was in the mountains
The forest was ripe
My celebration was recognizing the breath of fall entering my body.
Hadrian Veska Jun 2024
I’ve felt the chilled shivers
Of the darkened pre-dawn haze
The quiet earth yet trembles
Breathing in a sleepless malaise
I’ve turned to face the mountains
But they always remain to my back
I look to draw in my focus
But I can’t find what it is I lack
Malia Apr 2024
I’ve got a friend who has
Words like a drum,
Words like a drum,
Words like a drum.

You’ll feel it pass through you
With a heart-beating thrum,
Raindrops’ pitter patter echo
All she has done.

I’ve got a friend who has
Words that come down,
Heavy like leaden-footed
Giants abound.

She’ll take your breath away
And you’ll feel it in your bones,
It shakes down the mountains
Wherever she goes.

I’ve got a friend whose words
Land like a punch.
Staccato but it always hurts
Far too much.

She fights every battle
Like it’ll make her enough
For words filled with love
While hers are cold to the touch.
Heidi Franke Apr 2024
A mountain, a range
Carved from
everlasting ages
Did not crumble or wilt
to sand as it shook
from under my feet.
The granite face stood
Like statues
To manifesting
Into the space
around it.
Reminding me, that as weak
As I feel,
Inside of me
is a similar Persistence
Unmovable
From the capricious whim
of man and imbecilic masses who follow.

I will seize your sharp shank from excavators
trying to make me into something I am not.
A woman with equal
rights in the same air
you breathe
With dignity far beyond your pompous attempts
to roil this
robust range
down.
Your facade will crumble
when the mirror knocks
at your midnight door.
Here,
look at yourself.
Abortion is healthcare. Women's rights are human rights. Keep abortion legal.
022024

I hear the slow whisper of the air I breathe —
And then, I breathe in the Heaven’s atmosphere.
You call me in a different kind of peace,
An elevation where I had never climb up yet.

I see the beauty that I once forgotten —
Even the joy that sprouts within me…
The pressure of this world will no longer drag me
To the depths of where I’m not supposed to be.

I am more than myself
Coz there’s greatness in me.
And it’s You who see the value
Of my real identity.

You chose me
Even before I began to had my eyes on You —
That blazing fire that met the hunger of my soul,
And so I began to thirst for more of You.

You gave me purpose
In this dying generation…
My flesh decays with the worldly desire
And even my bones will not enter
The rest and the Place that my Spirit longs for.

There’s a gift You give —
A fresh start with Heaven’s dew.
As the rays of the sun kiss my skin,
And I will radiate as the morning does —
To radiate from inside out.
Waking up, there’s a Rhema in my head, “ New Dew.”

*It’s something resembling dew in purity, freshness, or power to refresh.

Hosea 13:3
Therefore they will be like the morning mist, and like the dew that passes away early, like the chaff that is driven with the whirlwind out of the threshing floor, and like the smoke out of the chimney.

The miraculously refreshing and reviving effect of dew upon the plants in the Holy Land prompted Isaiah to use it as a figure of resurrection (see Isaiah 26:19) and Hosea to use it as a figure of repentance (see Hosea 14:4–5).

Proverbs 3:19-20
The Lord by wisdom founded the earth,
By understanding He established the heavens.
By His knowledge the deeps were broken up
And the skies drip with dew.

Deuteronomy 32:2
“Let my teaching drop as the rain,
My speech distill as the dew,
As the droplets on the fresh grass
And as the showers on the herb.

Hosea 14:5
I will be like the dew to Israel;
He will blossom like the lily,
And he will take root like the cedars of Lebanon.

Psalm 110:3
Your people will volunteer freely in the day of Your power;
In holy array, from the womb of the dawn,
Your youth are to You as the dew.

Genesis 27:28
Now may God give you of the dew of heaven,
And of the fatness of the earth,
And an abundance of grain and new wine;
Josephine Wild Sep 2023
It
doesn't
matter who
reaches the top
of the mountain first
because eventually we
will all be buried beneath it.
We're just racing towards death.
If you're always trying to reach the top,
you never really get there. There will always
be another peak to climb, and you can't stay above
tree line forever. Also, the hail storm in the valley won't
last forever. So you hunker down and ride it out. Finally, if the
journey is the destination, you'll always be on top of the mountain.
Reflection from mountain running and life.
halfmoonprxnce Jun 2023
Greenery full of life
sits atop hills
beneath a moody grey sky
lush shrubs, bushes, trees
a sight lusted over
by people like me
a guilty pleasure
for those from Michigan suburbs
stationery, observing humans
the fast moving traffic below
semis rushing to make deliveries
people getting to jobs they hate
or don't mind
in outfits they aren't comfortable wearing
road rage
accidents on the highway
houses sit atop them
steep backyards
even they wonder
why anyone would live there
people can fall into traffic
their steepness is not something they can help
flights flying overhead
humans making it to events
thinking they are so important
living a life of privilege and ability
nature is peaceful, kind
unbothered, it's number one hobby:
people-watching.
Meaning: While driving in California, I saw beautiful mountains. They're everywhere. Covered with trees, bushes, shrubs, dead grass or what looks like hay, steep peaks and deep dips. There is a specific beauty in mountains. We don't have any in the suburbs where I live, so it's a treat to see them every now and then. Mindfully watching nature is something that I have gotten myself accustomed to. There is something beautiful and peaceful about getting lost in observing nature; the colors, textures, shapes, plants... It is simply gorgeous. The word "scenic" is the most basic word you can use to describe it. It feels like you are lost in something else. A sight is more special to absorb through the eyes rather than take a picture or see through a screen. This piece of writing is about mountains and hills and their existence-- their observations of human activities while they remain stationery. It highlights how nature simply exists, while observing the hustle, bustle, and struggle that humans face in their day to day life.
Lit by nature,
a flame of beauty

burning fiery
in her eyes.

Glowing like
the
mountains sunrise.
Soft,
and calm
like lilly of
the valley
beside spring.
Modeling silky
smile.
Making my bell 🛎 ring.
Rainbow 🌈 worship such allurment, can really
make carnivores
easily feed on grass.

Beautiful creature,
perfect nature.
Mystery girl intrigue
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