Tag Archives: MOUNTAINS


At the summit
we have only boulders
to bear witness
to our gain.

The upwards march
of a silent cadence
through the trees
now below us
like the cities before.

The wind has strengthened.
Clouds move fast
and though we are closer,
the sky still stretches
beyond the horizon.

Our bodies are tired
yet resilient
such a natural place of rest.
The worry of tomorrow
seems so distant
when the world
is laid out before you.

Bent River

When the moonlight peaks over
those softly swaying cottonwood trees,
you’ll find me by the river
dancing to the rushing water’s beat.

Cool air drifts into the valley,
driving away the summer’s heat.
Barefooted, young, and naive,
no one could ever make us leave.

With the comfort of the river,
we share our happiness and grief.
Weaving tales that become legends,
the things of old, the things we keep.

It’s there that I found my first kiss.
Moonlight dazzled and drunk on the night,
she was more than beautiful;
my friends say I was just a lucky guy.

When people hear that water humming,
they begin to relax about their day.
Laughing and sharing with one another,
fear and worry is easily washed away.

I learned secrets not yet forgotten.
Heard things I can’t repeat.
I will never forget those nights
and everything they mean to me.

When the moonlight peaks over
those softly swaying cottonwood trees,
you’ll find me by the river
dancing to the rushing water’s beat.


The clouds move
like an army
over the mountain.
Their bellies barely
scraping the jagged edges
and tips of pines.
With each moment,
they grow larger
swallowing the last
of blue sky.
The wisps become thickets
of dark grey and white.
Though they are quick to pass
through a maze
of valleys and peaks
they stagnate
on the far east edge
and begin to release
days of rain
that they have been keeping inside.
Dousing the plains
and slinking further up
there is nothing left
to hide.


Rocks break through
barren ground.
Their jagged tops arch.
A piece of Earth’s spine
as Nature has allowed.

They stretch
into the distance.
on the edge.
A gate,
to the West.

In the valleys
between them
drifts untamed land.
May that beauty
stay hidden
from the hands
of Man.

Temporary Ground

Climbing to the top
of the mountains,
I was finally above the grey mist.
Below the valleys
and plains were just a blanket
of clouds.
Both strange and beautiful
was this temporary ground.

Still waves of puffy white
breaking on shores of pines.
The sun streaking
bands of gold
on high.


When I die,
don’t bury my body deep
with no living thing to see.

Take my ashes
and scatter them wide
across the mountaintops
and canyons
of the Divide.

Where I found my peace
in the solemn beauty
amidst the pines
and roaring creeks
of nature’s glory.


I climbed a mountain.
A real one.
Not an emotional one.

At the top,
there were no trees.
Rough grasses and rocks.
Scurrying mammals and flowers
blooming as if spring.

The air is thin there.
But that is not why you gasp.
It’s the strangeness
of everything that surrounds you,
so far below
and beyond.

Everything looks a painting,
a photograph,
not real.
But it is.
It is not enough to take a picture.
It is not even enough to stare.

So I sat awhile,
at the top of the mountain.
And let my thoughts
chase the sailing the clouds,
the rocky silhouettes,
the valleys carved by rivers
and creeks.


White spirits fall
from cloud batter skies.
The world turns to something new.

Icy streams gather around
the empty limbs
of barren trees.
Lengthening longer
as day passes on,
they flicker like stars
held only inches from the ground.

There are no tracks
in this foreign land.
only effortless horizons
dotted by the formidable pine.

The snow wraps the rocky surface
like a soft blanket
tenderly covering
the nourishing world beneath.

Buried below the air’s ashes
is the slow bearing heart
of another season,
silently waiting
for the Sun’s power
to wake again.