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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required It came this day As I journeyed south That I happened upon An old man Filling water bottles From a small pond Fed from water That gushed from rocks Half way up A mountain It must be special, I said If you’re going to lug this lot Down this mountains hide With a sly grin And a nod to God He handed me a bottle Motioning to drink This water From the mountains side Now I know Water shouldn’t have a taste Sept that chlorinated crap From the towns taps But as I took a generous gulp From the old man’s generosity Something Flooded my body Re-hydrating my soul And got rid Those concerning moles Aches That plagued my bones Doubts That fogged my mind Lifted Like the morning Sun rise The dread I felt When looking up this mountain side Evaporated Into youthful excitement To get a head on Up its side To the misty peaks Above The old man was smiling He could see The amazement In my eyes And my grin That grew to a smile Its then That I noticed The Illusion Of the old man And his smile He was all But old With youthful Muscle on bone Hair that was blond I could of sworn Was grey Not a moment before No stoop Nor limp Or audible complaint To movement This illusionary Old man Was fitter Then a wild Mountain goat I reluctantly returned The bottle Taking my own From my pack Draining the contents Away from these magical rocks I knelt As if praying To the mountain And its gift Of water That filled my bottle I heard the old man behind me You’ll find What you seek Beyond those Yonder peaks In the misty mountains Further down Your journey I looked around To reply As to how he knew What I seek But he was disappearing Into the fog That was rolling up From the valley Beneath And my question Hung Somewhere Between Throat And Spoke
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