Muir's Mountain Is Calling
Oh! to be among trees, mindful of silent power
in mountains hallowed trails walked by Muir
snow still filling nature’s deep kept secret bower
breathe a bounty of sweet air clear and pure
the rush of streams in springs ever rapid plunge
music played to my footsteps beating drum
water dripping into the grounds wet sponge
snow melts as flowers start to thrive and thrum
he set about recording each feeling, plant and rock
tramped trails knowing there was hidden a clue
we roam the mountain as one of his unknown flock
interlace our souls in a weave that’s as old as it’s new
what words can be found dropped into this silence
when distraction is nothing more than a birds wing
no screens to scream about the daily violence
just lessons of earths sacred bounty worn like a ring
where your eyes meet what has lived serenity bound
falling trees that heard the soil cry with sympathy
decays gift of life as the circle comes to meet around
aligned in time to hear its own life of pure symmetry
caught in a fast web of our own handcrafted design
we can let go to journey upon a mountain path
what Muir saw as seasons to be so innately divine
we carry within our spirits in an inherited shared bath
So! On to the forests and into the depths of green
wear visions of blue sky caught in the white giants lure
adventures drift into the dreams that you’ve seen
on pathways not hallways we answer our cries cure
Copyright © Jeanne Mcgee | Year Posted 2020
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