Best John Muir Poems
“And into the forest I go to lose my mind and find my soul.” - John Muir
The forest is a calm spiritual place,
a balsam scented and serene space.
Rabbits hide in mossy dens,
with fresh mushroom gems.
Magical!
Cleanse.
Fanciful,
trees, flowers and stems.
Where creatures sleep and some race.
A place to treat with kindness and grace,
the forest is a calm spiritual place.
1/21/23
Contest: Writing Challenge - Andaree Form
Sponsor: Constance La France
( howmanysyllables and rhymezone used to check poem)
By waters edge sat John Muir
His wish for us all, preserve what's pure
He twisted and wiggled, his butt did a dance
It occurred to him, he had ants in his pants!
12/28/14
© All Rights Reserved
The Ballad of John Muir Woods
I squint at the splendid morning sun
golden filtered bright rays conveyed.
Speaking they say, sit, little one
rest a spell in our noble shade.
I squint at this forest of titans
sitting, I wait for more whisperings.
They weigh my thoughts across the breeze
you are part of our air, they sing.
Youth returns in kaleidoscopes
sprightly green patterns swiftly shift.
Tinged golden from morning’s new hope
their harmony in sea breezes drift.
These conifers sprout from stump and boast
wildness, our need is undisputed.
Redwoods, the glory of Cali’s coast
engage me and call me beloved.
DE Fullerton
From pine-scented forests, past boulders and streams,
To clear lakes encircled by murals and dreams
Where bright clouds emblazon a warm azure sky,
A trail through the mountains is one I must try.
When bluebells stop blooming and nighttime grows cold,
The breeze makes the aspen trees shimmer with gold.
The chirp of the pika is scarce to be heard;
The eerie elk-bugle is now the watchword.
The sounds and their season soon snuffed out by snow,
The silky white peaks wear a pink, sensual glow
At sunrise when raw arctic blasts turn serene,
Inviting to view how they’ve sculpted the scene.
As ice turns to water and lush green arrives,
The crags reappear and new wildlife thrives.
Soon streamlets will gurgle and columbines grow;
The mountains are calling and I must go.
A high calling indeed
to protect the most vulnerable
in nature and mankind
.....Excerpts from Cherokee Proverbs, Teddy Roosevelt and John Muir
a prayer...
Oh God, Father of all that is good
Shine Your light upon our vagrant souls
Fill our thoughts and actions with Your
Strength, Bless our bretheren with open
hearts, so they shall carry Your Grace
to every corner of our planet, assisting
man and nature whenever needed, so all
life shall know Your Love, in Jesus's name,
Amen.
08/29/13
© All Rights Reserved
IN THE VALLEY OF YOSEMITE
Today, as I took a walk through,
The valley of Yosemite, such
A beauty that lies within
The rocks, trails, and the falls
There is a place where
Clear blue sky's embrace
Where the trees are tall
And are rooted within rocks
As I lift my head up to
The sun that dries my tears,
That falls from my eyes, there
Is a breeze among the pines.
In the early morning as I
Follow the longest trails,
Keeping my steps steady and strong
Mountains, blue skies, animals, white snow.
Yosemite with many trails and sceneries
Of beauty, hikes, through John Muir and
Glacier Mountains, peaceful feelings
Here In the valley of Yosemite.
copywrited @ 2008
I'm not like you John Muir:
I haven't fell into the deepest well;
I haven't swam through a solid stream;
And I haven't felt a gushing geyser's steam--
I've only been forever locked in this cell.
I'm not like you John Muir:
I've never slept under the stars;
I've never had grizzly meat for a snack;
And I've never ridden on horseback--
I've only ridden in lazy cars.
I'm not like you John Muir:
I will never fight for a cause;
I will never see mountain peaks;
I will never bathe in bottomless creeks,
And no one will ever know who I was.
I'm not like you John Muir,
But I wish that I was.
Tissiack’s Tears
“[F]or I was absorbed in the great Tissiack [Half Dome]-- I have gazed on Tissiack a thousand times -- in days of solemn storms, and when her form shone divine with the jewelry of winter, or was veiled in living clouds; and I have heard her voice of winds, and snowy, tuneful waters when floods were falling; yet never did her soul reveal itself more impressively than now. John Muir
Tissiack’s tears fall from her rain-stained face,
her profile one with the lichened rock.
She, the spirit of the Ahwahneechees,
speaks silently, with the voice of winds,
of time, change and the valley's past.
My tent at the Lodge opened to her
and for a year I gazed upon and
thought I had begun to understand -
but youth is distracted by what is
and can't see what can't been seen.
Years later, I return to her and sit
in the moonlight at Mirror Lake.
As my eyes tire and become unfocused,
I see her missing half in the water -
her half that isn’t, her mystic moiety.
She then whispers of unhalves, and in the
rippled, reflective waters appears
my unhalf – those thoughts, unthought and
that life, unlived. I now share in her tears
and embrace her unseen soul.
Labels that lead to hate…will only pain impart…
they will never bring us together…only push us further and further apart.
When we are consumed by the labels we place on one another it becomes more difficult…more bizarre to see each other clearly…to understand who we truly are.
When all we see is a person’s color, race, sex, religion…the gender they know they were born to be…the person underneath the label…we are never blessed to see.
Because the label we assign to a person…is only one piece of the puzzle…one part
and when all we see is that label…we never see inside their heart.
Through politics and prejudice our tendency to abuse these labels has gotten worse…and worse…and worse…and before it becomes more pervasive…more damaging…more perverse…
I direct your attention to a man whose philosophy was taught to him by the mountains, the rivers and the birds….
Perhaps now is the time to listen to John Muir…time to heed his words.
Words he wrote while walking with nature…which once read and thoroughly dissected have a deeper meaning for us today than, I imagine, even he expected.
“When we try to pick out anything by itself.” He wrote, “we find it hitched to everything in the universe. Simple words if heeded could help our hatred and prejudice reverse.
I wonder when he made this revelation…perhaps seated by a stream…
if the creators at the moment…didn’t share with him their dream…
How every humans, every animal, every river…every tree
are meant to live together…in balance and harmony…
How it is possible to separate ourselves by hate…how for a while some may thrive…
but in the long run how we are all connected…and how we need each other to survive.
Tom Waits sang, And I hope I don't fall in love with you.
But I did, fall in love with the land. I fell in love with Warren Zevon
and the idea of telling something about who I would like to become,
even if I may never, it never did matter all the same to me.
"The road is like a river, the moon is like a bone,
she said exactly what is your meaning, he replied, I'm only stopping
to get some gasoline".
Life is like a shrill, it could be like a grain of something you remember
and never ever forget.
And just like any wild flower, the dreams were always there growing
in between the magic of your eyes.
Peace!
AND INTO THE FOREST I GO, TO LOSE MY MIND AND FIND MY SOUL…
John Muir
A cool forest trail beckons and begs
Come, stretch your tired legs
Feel the cool descend upon your shoulders
Lifting tensions as big as boulders
Walk among the spires of tall tree friends
Over streams or through meadows and glens
Eagles nest high above touching tree crown
Hear owls hoot-hoot and look all around
Still your breath. Let silence settle like a glove
He’s hiding in dim shelter, three branches above
At home in my soul I feel with time thus spent
Breathing in peace the forest has lent
Forest
Welcome respite
Walking, hearing, feeling
A gentle lifting of spirits
Verdant
I used a couplet form with a cinquain form at the end
written 8-9-2019
Writing Challenge 1, August 2019 - Just Write 4th place
Sponsor, Dear Heart
"In every walk with nature, one receives far more than he seeks."
- John Muir
"I took a walk in the woods and came out taller than the trees."
- Henry David Thoreau
I take a stroll mid the trees tall,
To my troubled soul, a cure-all,
Listening to the crushing leaves,
My lonely heart comfort receives,
The song of the birds captivates,
Calling out to me as time waits,
I weave through tangled branches deep,
Through shadowed woods, my eyes, they sweep;
I take in the beauty of Spring,
The charmed allure of everything,
Captivates my heart and my soul,
In here, I feel revived and whole,
Attractions plenty to ponder,
Slowly I pause, breathe and wander,
When I feel blue, none to delight,
A walk in the woods makes it right.
01.22.2022
“How glorious a greeting the sun gives the mountains!” ~ naturalist John Muir
For my parents, one dog, and four boys,
after six hours of switchbacks with no break,
when majestic waters glitter turquoise,
there is no other beauty like Duck Lake.
During these Covid-19 days so sad
when an walking trip is not on cue
so missing in one's fondest memories
a trip on high seems so long overdue
My own favourite place to climb
is in the English Lakes so fair
down there a mountain is a fell
many a challenge to make one dare
When one is considering such a peak
there's a voice whispering in your ear
to go on up to such great heights
there's no room in you to be in fear
Listen to the call up on high
it draws you like a magnet touch
as I climbed Skiddaw, Blencathra and Catbells
these feels were exhilarating always so much
The views so breathtaking when on top
making every effort worth it's while
the call indeed looks for a voice, 'I must go'
go but it won't be a strolling country mile
(Quote: "The mountains are calling, and I must go.")
The quotation was made by John Muir, a Scottish-American environmentalist, who was known as the "father of our national parks," and who was an early advocate for the preservation of the wilderness areas in the United States.
“When we contemplate the globe as one great dewdrop, striped and dotted with continents and islands, flying through space with other stars all singing and shining together as one, the whole universe appears as an infinite storm of beauty.” John Muir
THE TATTERDEMALION KITE
the restlessness of the profound can only follow a Gandi-path. alone in a wilderness, where God performs breathlessness of CPR. his cold-damp cloth covers the forehead and his pierced and merciful palm keeps one from falling into the abyss. the euphoria of his creation, often curtailed for a season — the tatterdemalion kite with long tails, unable to keep one’s feet on the ground. the dank earth gives way to unearthed caves; the kaleidoscopic kite sails to highest heights. if i can only touch one finger of God, in childlike fervor, the same finger that created Adam…weightless, ceiling debris like asteroids surrounding me. do you feel the excitement of the cracking. smiling, the Son of God allows his glory to peek out through heaven’s door.
10/31/2019