If I could leave my consciousness
And travel across my heart
I would see every rock and every drop
As a work of art

At the beginning I might find
A fairly nuetral place
There's never sun and never rain
And too much empty space

But soon the journey isn't smooth
Rises and falls that you might call extreme
One moment snow, the next mad heat
The former like a dream

The next chapter is more puzzling
So many routes to choose
Along one road I gained so much
The other had much to lose

At the end I saw a mountain wall
Streching as far as east to west
I knew I had to climb it
And at the top let my feet rest

When I finally turned around
I could see all the places I'd been

But then I tripped and fell off the edge

*Since then I have not been seen

The bravest one of all
is the girl who ties on an invisible cape,
and dances around her troubles
as if she's blind to her struggles.

Climbing towards her dreams
on broken glass,
and digging out the ****** shards
one piece at a time.

Scars are the road maps on her skin
showing her how far she's come,
Never gliding on freshly paved roads,
always climbing up the rugged mountains.

But she tastes the rain,
and she feels the wind,
never numbing herself to
the disasters in her life.

When she reaches the top,
her strength will allow her to
fly with the most majestic of eagles
with a bandaged wing, so that she never forgets.

The hard-packed gravel road in the woods
Winds and twists and meanders
And is lined on either side by sun-lit dusty branches
And thin twining trees with more leaves than trunk
Which turn into standing logs, tall and thin and dappled,
Branches high, dusky and shifting light,
Or a charred forest of once-was pointing out the sky
Or fields of soft baby pines in the sun,
Sometimes clearing to show
The sharp gentle curve of mountains
Rising green and falling blue,
Fuzzy edges of pine lining,
Slowly obscured again by one tree, then two
Then a small forest of thin trees
And dusty sunlit bushes
Lining a meandering, twisting, winding
Hard-packed gravel road in the woods

Go to sleep, Love, dive deep down into your wildest dreams and
find that stardust you buried inside yourself so long ago...
Would you take me with you? Would you let me run alongside?
We could race with our loneliest memories up Mount Fuji;
I just know we'd leave them choking in the dust, left so far behind.
We could build ourselves a nest somewhere close to the stars,
we could take a nap with the birds and whisper to them stories about all of our different scars.
And I know not all of my dreams make sense, some are outlandish and impossible to do.
But what's the point in living Life if we never do as dreamers do?

How many mouths whispered silent prayer
And sat in these halls wishing for god.
How many lives were celebrated and mourned here.
Unions made and broken.
The family, the hearth, spirit, life and death.
All flowed through here.
Now it stands proud and open to the heavens.
Holding the glory of what has been and is now.

Stone upon stone,
Piece by piece until it was made
That church that castle of the soul
It stood, it stands, a monument to man, toil, sweat and reverence.
Time honours it, blesses it.
Now it is part with the land
As it was always.  

Do not look upon it for you may not see it's glory
And a shame to miss and pass by
and to not think what things happened here.
What joys and sadnesses,
What moments and sorrows it witnessed.
Do not pass by but do not look either
For we cannot imagine. To know
The stories it holds and the memories it keeps.

My lips whisper
upon your bare skin
Across the valleys
they howl with delight
Come embrace me and hold
onto eternity for seconds sake
Moonlight shades your mountains
as I am awed by the sight
Feel the spirit of our breath entwine
with clashing tongues of enrapturement
Oh , heavenly your ******* touch
my tingling skin
I sing with fevered ecstacy

They were
                 tired
                 quite young
                 adults
climbing the mountain of emotion. Tired.

But before that

They were
                 tired
                 always hardworking
                 students
climbing the mountain of success. Tired.

But before that

They were
                 tired
                 still excited
                 children
climbing the mountain of discovery. Tired.

But before that

They were
                 tired
                 keys tapping
                 quietly
climbing the mountain to poetry. Tired.

Nature's contributions cascade along the steep trail.

Numerous white patches and yellow splotches

set on a blanket of green

amid immense coverings

so blue that it seems parts of the sky have fallen.  

Pinks protrude like boulders in a creek

while reds try to hide around rocks and crevasses.

Faded petals,

past announcements of spring

now reside alongside signs of birth,

buds seeking an identity.

Arrays of mature blossoms parade full and ripe

along a path of short lives and slow deaths.

Fallen relics, grey and mossy

display across the emerald carpet,

a memory of another time.

Shadows sliding down,
Enshrouding the mountainside,
Heralding day's end

A cool mist hovers
Over the sleepy mountains
Masking their beauty