of the serenity of uncluttered time,
cloudless blue sky, green pines, and a winding, mountain trail,
days without end, perhaps a connection to something
more, something spiritual.
Once, on a spring hike, we crossed a meandering stream
and spotted fresh bear track on one of the large stones,
just made minutes before, water dripping.
We had no whistles.
We were far from the trailhead. We listened
and heard nothing. No bird calls to warn us of danger,
just that absolute quiet.
I would not hug a tree, for out here, different rules apply.
Survival. Here, I am defined and redefined, for
that bear has cubs to feed in the spring.
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| Paw of Grizzly (Source: http://math.ucr.edu/home/baez/diary/january_2015.html) |
Just a note: I'm grateful for every element that protects me from the wild, especially with winter on the way. Yes, I romanticize 'nature' in paintings and postcards for its sheer beauty. But on a cold winter's night, I am inside.
Tomorrow's prompt: Mother Earth.
You can visit OctPoWriMo at http://www.octpowrimo.com/ to read what others have written. Thank you, Morgan Dragonwillow, Michelle Vecchitto, Esther Jones, and Maria L. Berg for hosting this month-long poetry challenge. We're nearly half way through!
You can visit OctPoWriMo at http://www.octpowrimo.com/ to read what others have written. Thank you, Morgan Dragonwillow, Michelle Vecchitto, Esther Jones, and Maria L. Berg for hosting this month-long poetry challenge. We're nearly half way through!
Different strokes for different folks! Survival becomes paramount.
ReplyDeleteThanks for visiting and commenting! Remembering the quiet of that moment, unsure the bear would appear, was sobering.
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