Below is the poem entitled Thermals of Yellowstone which was written by poet
Hill. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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Snow does not win victory at Hell’s door,
It transforms to screaming steam,
rising above the piled snowflakes.
Lowly bacteria feed on the heat.
The shimmering water stained,
as colored glass in a cathedral.
A restless beauty reigns imminent,
with destruction a growing sister,
certain to spoil a glorious landscape.
A tumble beneath the inviting waters,
harkens instant reincarnation,
and a meeting with a vast universe.