Whispers of the Mountain Path
Early morning mist clings to the valley, cloaking the world in quiet gray. The air is crisp, tinged with the scent of pine needles and damp earth. Each footstep along the winding trail is met with the gentle crunch of gravel and fallen leaves—a steady rhythm that echoes in the stillness. The mountains loom above, ancient and unmoving, their peaks hidden by shifting clouds. As I ascend, the path narrows and my breath grows shallow, but my spirit feels light, as if carried by the wind. Standing at the summit, the world unfurls beneath me—rivers glimmer, forests sprawl, and silence reigns, vast and unbroken.
Stone giants watching—
the sun’s gold spills on ridges,
eagles ride the dawn.
A Clever, Highly Intriguing Haibun Poetry Contest
1/19/2026
Sponsored by: Hilo Poet
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