This Climbing World
The soulful hour comes after 6pm
when dipping sun breaks through
the pillars of trees as I roam alone,
and find a softened , hilly granite
to sit on, and here, my being rests;
the light pouring down into the woods
and breaking the the shades and colors
of things. And hearing my own silence
with a hint of windsong, the higher self
climbs through the trellis of the breeze,
arriving in a funnel of light like a ray
to see, touch a god-like image, hazed
as I wander through a city outside myself.
760 Contest, Strand
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
