Poetry...Spoken Word...Prose Poems...Free Verse... Interwoven Threads of Life's Tapestry of thought...Labyrinths within the journey’s twists and turns through the less ordinary pathways traveled… Understand this moment has come to just write what you feel… don’t ever let anyone say what you feel is wrong..."The woods would be very silent, if no bird sang except those who sang best." The journey of 1000 miles begins with a single step... Introspective expressions through creative writing...
"From every wound there is a scar, and every scar tells a
story.
A story says, I survived." - Fr. Craig Scott
... a prologue to " Beyond the Telegraph Road "
tribute to a fallen brother
Beyond the Majestic Bounds
crampon cleats tickle her snow packed bedrock
far below the frosty powder dusting;
released from where her majestic peak
parted yester night’s obstinate clouds.
the alpine atmosphere
first chilled and then plummeted
as the starlight glistened;
illuminated ice crystals sparkled
like diamonds in the rough.
I am overwhelmed
by the peaceful aura
surrounding me.
watching how
"these"
footprints
mark the snow
...arousing
a lucid,
stirring awareness
of my existence;
...inciting
a conscious moment,
extraordinarily deepening
the realization of being...
Authors notes: aka…a
bit of back story...
At 20, tragedy stuck my life when my best friend I had grown up with from just
down the block, perished in a head on crash. We lived together in college at
the time and we were all headed to the beach for the Memorial Day weekend. Another friend had a 2 seat sports car and
at the last minute I could not go because 3 did not fit. (6’4” 200 at the time)
I was disappointed and felt abandoned by my best friend as I watched them drive
away, down the gravel road for the last time. Then came the knock at the door by the state
police at 1am inquiring about next of kin, a moment that changed my life forever.
When we snow skied as teens, we always talked about climbing the
mountain we were on. It took years and the weight of a promise, some practice, physical training and a 6 month
mountaineering class to discover so much more than closure…
“Don't
walk behind me; I may not lead. Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow.
Just walk beside me and be my friend.” - Albert Camus
a poem about a commitment to a fallen friend ,
- honored -
Beyond the
Telegraph Road
The
telegraph road circled through the foothills,
arising
towards the majestic mountain high
It’s been
a long and twisting passage soon forgotten,
with the pavement abruptly
dead ending, just below the timberline
The
dawning blue sky’s heavens look so much closer now
Just
a step away from standing within reach
The birds uplifted on the telegraph wire rest atop me;
perched overhead on
the final material traces
disregarded by an indifferent world
My awakening
soul is ascending
beyond
the distant alpine horizon
At
the threshold of a trackless pathway,
climbing
up above the clouds
It’s
exhilarating to look back and know
there
is no turning back around
I’ve
never been higher
and
can never get back down
What
unknown frontier lies in wait before me now?
Just
on the other side of the impossible dream?
The
last step forward to find the next step beyond the bounds
There
is not that much that changes,
when
we just repeat the same old song
The
atmosphere’s thin air leaves me gasping for wings
Like
dust and ashes free to soar with the tempest breeze
If
only time would sever these loathsome ties that bind
The
ones that enchain the weight of this load unto me
While understanding
the pace to a long journey’s rhythm
The
only barometer you have to trust is in your heart
Adaptation
is at the core of freedom's survival
But
it feels almost like running away
I
have felt the fear of falling with nothing left to lose
I’ve
climbed as far as flesh and bones can reach
I've come
this far always feeling subtly afraid
It
has been a great distance back from the beginning;
knowing
I must take these last steps alone.
Understanding
it was love that brought me here
Naturally
tugs at the spirit in my soul encouraging me on I'll keep searching for the
shining light of guidance Listening for a voice
that softly beckons me home...
... a chapter from "The Minstrel of the Blue Moon" written about vanguards of spring , in the Cascade Mountain foothills , illuminated by a full moon...
Spring Cadence
The coyotes’ wail shall never again paint a yellow moon so full or tint its deep pearlescent sheen so blue
Natural ambient elements serenade the moon and stars A plethora of all heightened senses savor every sparkle in midnight’s near and far
There may never be another magical moment sung exactly like the untamed timbre bemoaned through these trees
Celestial incandescence reflects the sky’s mystical mosaic’s afterglow; transcendent resonance ricochets from the angelic lily white petals
The native dogwood’s flowers draw down the night sky’s radiant montage Scattering a natural luminescent palette as they sparkle with the twinkle of the stars
The coyote’s medley of mournful laments echoes the moment’s budding essence adorning the blossoming dogwood's bouquet ; it’s natural enchanting ambiance graces the awakening spring , within in the moonlit woods…
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