Best Mountains Poems
There Will Never Be Enough Time
There will never be enough time to hear unique
music of nature's songs in its birds, its insects,
in songs of the wind, or the sounds of the sea.
Or how earth breathes and is alive through its
caves and caverns, through its crystal rocks in
bell tones that ring soothing sounds for the soul.
There will never be enough time to visit all the
wondrous places this glorious earth has to offer.
Nor enough time to read all the talented poetry
our new technology provides us with online and
in favorite poetry books of masters long dead.
Poems that so inspire and leave hearts on fire.
There will never be enough time to view all the
sights in glorious colors of sunrises and sunsets,
of twilight's shadows and intricate silhouettes.
Nor the light on the mountains in verdant display
as mist weaves its magic o'er splendorous pines.
Sights that inspire thrill and enthrall so profoundly
with the beauty of it all, as each day's a divine gift.
There will never be enough time to breathe in life's
blissful perfume in scents of many flowers in bloom,
in lilac's, gardenia's and the magnolia's sweet scents,
or in petrichor's heavenly aroma from rain's dalliance.
In scents from the seaside or the mountain's fresh air,
in Mother Nature's great gifts of her fragrance so fair.
There will never be enough time to behold your love
in the grace of God's minion in spiritual connection.
That feeling of oneness, that special spark from all life
as it spreads contentment and warmth over body's
decay in knowledge we will all realize birth once again;
that all feelings matter in our Karmically created laws.
Yet, there IS enough time to give thanks and rejoice for
every life is precious no matter of life's circumstances.
3-3-19
*Dedicated To Robert Lindley whose poetry inspired this poem.
[Verse 1]
I grew my farm roots beneath your starry-eyed loam
In soils of silence where dreams slip by, lost and unknown
But you were the willowing wind pulling you far away
Took to the stars as if you never meant to stay.
[Pre-Chorus]
I’m buried deep in the earth’s embrace
But you’ve spread your wings into the endless space
We were worlds apart from the very first start
One foot in the soil, one foot breaking my heart.
[Verse 2]
I watched you chase the meteor storm in your eyes
Like a red comet lost in the blackened velvet skies
I was the snow-capped mountain forever standing still
And you were the restless west wind chasing every thrill.
[Pre-Chorus]
I’m stone and soil, you’re wind and air
I reach for your touch but you’re never there
I’m anchored to the earth where the wild things doth roam
But you’re out there flying, with no place to call your home.
[Chorus]
You were my earth, I was your sky
I held you close, but you wanted to fly
I buried my soul, you touched the light
We danced in the dusk, but never in the dark of night.
(Repeat Chorus)
(2nd ending)
We’re just earth and sky
Two separate worlds that’ll never collide
Live or die.
[Bridge]
I let go of the stones beneath my hands
Tried to rise like you to understand
But the stars you sought burned much too bright
Leaving me cold and shivering, in shadows of the night.
Maybe I’ll grow or maybe I’ll fall
But we’re two halves of a broken call
Earth and sky, never quite whole
Two songs unsung, forever lost…
two restless souls.
[Chorus]
You were my earth, I was your sky
I held you close, but you wanted to fly
I buried my soul, you touched the light
We danced in the dusk but never in the dark of night.
(Repeat Chorus)
(2nd ending)
We’re just earth and sky
Two separate worlds that’ll never collide
Live or die.
[Outro]
You’ll be the stars, I’ll be the ground
We’ll spin through the night
(1st and 3rd Time)
going round and round
Earth and sky
Earth and sky
(Repeat)
(2nd and 4th Time)
but never be found
Earth and sky
Earth and sky
(Repeat)
“Together, ever and ever alone... in the cold dark of night.”
I reach the edge of the woods
and glimpse
the summit:
high, far –
and daunting.
I must not look up too much,
for I might lose courage.
I need patience,
to string steps
on the thread of my breath
and trust
that I will arrive.
But every now and then, I shall pause
and look backwards
to see
how far I have come.
July 9, 2018
I wander far from the coal-tar smog
and buzzing sounds of the city
to a place where I can smell
fresh-cut hay in a tepid breeze.
I stroll through a woodland path
winding its way along evergreen trees.
Like a silver-lime leaf my heart
settles in Willington waters
I know I belong to the lake.
In distance white butterflies follow
the whistling tunes of an old railway train.
Infront of me set sail long canal boats
Behind me dogs bark,men walk
A grey-haired lady stirs crystals of sugar
in bone-china cups filled with english tetley tea.
The out-stretched arms of dandelions
welcome home foraging honey-bees
A Peak District Chalet in the little mountain village
awaits my return,my forgotten pen
and new sunset dreams
Inspired by my last trip to England.
Nova
Mountain sunshine, take my hand;
Wrap your warmth around my shoulders;
Slip your arm within my arm;
Dance in my eyes as on sparkling waters;
Warm my heart to grow as columbine.
Mountain moon, weave me a gown;
Cast in my spirit a summer night serene;
Braid my hair with silver ribbons;
Give my face your harvest glow;
Let me too reflect the sun’s light.
Mountain rains, wash my heart clean;
Fill up each day with tender grace;
Create in me a wellspring of peace;
Give me the melody of rushing rivers;
Let me share the joy of rambunctious raindrops.
Mountain wind, give birth to my soul;
Shake the dust off of my feet;
Sing me songs of rustling leaves;
Give me the words to a snowstorm lullaby;
Send my feet to greet the dawn’s light.
Mountain stars, give me your dreams;
Diamonds that twinkle to wear for a ring;
An open heart for a wishing star;
Shining dreams to hold in the night;
Make my life a heavenly nova.
“Close to the western summit there is the dried and frozen carcass of a leopard. No one has explained what the leopard was seeking at that altitude.”
— Ernest Hemingway, The Snows of Kilimanjaro
Close, but close to what, he asks himself
to God, or to the end of things?
the question looms, an icy wind that stings
western sun belies the deathly chill within his bones
summit slain, an unread book upon the shelf
there is this urge that drives a man,
is hard to grasp and harder to expound -
the constant forward press that leaves each
dried, unquenched, though verdant green surrounds,
and yet, to feel within one’s core, the source just out of reach
frozen by fear of somehow missing out, his
carcass now grows cold, a mind adrift, in search
of times of youth and days of old -
a man possessed will rid these thoughts no sooner than a
leopard sheds his spots
No real concern is given to the
one who comes behind, who likewise seeks -
has he a thought of how his end will be
explained? to whom? they either understand or know not
what lies just ahead beyond this snowy peak
the sadness of the unattended field such sown - the
leopard lives and dies alone, but for the joys of spring
was this Creator’s plan for us? i don’t think so -
seeking, He’s found in places pressed and low,
at heights, without, does but exhaustion bring
that one might scale the highs, seek out, explore -
altitude, we find, a perfect metaphor
I stand, the most statuesque, peeking through the clouds
that lend their softness as my pillow when sun in midnight drowns.
Golden sun, a fitting crown for a majesty such as me;
Somber moon, my nightcap; tundra stockings on my feet.
Veins of icy water; hair of snow drifts white.
I, the ladder Jacob dreamt of, one revealing night.
Would you climb and be my king, upon my peak to rest?
Or meet, descending from the heavens, doom's Angel of Death.
Dare to move me by your faith as the man from Galilee;
or does my might leave you in doubt to tremble on your knees?
Against my chest, Thor strikes his hammer; thunder fills your ears.
From my shoulders, he takes aim; arching lightening spears.
Haven to monstrous legends as the abominable snow beast;
hidden in tales of lore, on nonbelievers he does feast.
Bursting forth from earthen womb, a giant granite fountain.
Ancient tower of vast unknowns; I am the mighty mountain.
Let me tell you, child, before you grow
About your life, things you should know
There will be times you need to contemplate loss
There will be mountains to climb and rivers to cross
Each moment is precious, so enjoy every one
Live for the moment and follow the Son.
He won’t forsake you in your darkest time
There will be mountains, He’ll help you climb.
Teardrops and laughter, sunshine and rain
Love and happiness, heartaches and pain
You’ll face all of these in your own day
Each is a blessing in its own way
Facing those challenges, crossing those streams
You’ll find special moments living your dreams
Sometimes you’ll be angry and sometimes you’ll stray
There will be mountains that stand in your way
You’ll look to Jesus when you’re in need of a Friend
There will be mountains that you will ascend.
I clasp your hand the moment I realise I will fall alone
You grit your teeth in anger holding me as I dangle there
Your jawline is rock hard, the veins on your head popping out,
You are breathing in and out in desperate fear of losing me
But your lightening, determined eyes shoot through me and say,
"Damn it all!
I love you
I will never let you go"
The mountain's edge falls around me and below us
But I will not look down
Gravity is pissed
With all of my strength I hurl my shoulder upwards so that my other hand clasps your arm
You pull me up to safety and draw me into your fiery embrace
Nothing will take us but each other...
I know this and sob in your arms
I have never fallen so in love with you
In that moment when death was so close
From here, we will rise
Kiss me relentlessly through all destruction,
You have taught me that
Every mountain will fall before us
As Time unwinds with a cup of tea
Sipping fragrant steam of centuries
No rush to fluff the flattened sea
In the key of wind's piano notes
Strumming with hummingbirds' low float
And the whale's alto undercoat
Piecing a jigsaw silhouette
Of mountain sky, as eons set
Painting a desert river wet
Her comet's glittered ribbons trace
Over Orion's luminous face
Dappled in blue's infinite base
Goblets of stars conjure up
A millennia, as tiny
As a teacup.
Storm
Coming
Air is calm
The skies are gray
Winds are expected
To create the snow drifts
Temperature will be low
Standing in cold to see beauty
Preparations are done, time to wait
This is winter in the mountains up North
Heidi Sands
1/19/19
Old Mountain tales of love spin
'neath dawn's blush,
Elderberries, purple ink drop pearls
drawing me nigh.
Ah! Her laughter just like a honeybee’s dance
in the summer’s rush.
For you ignite my days with passion,
'tis morn, a tear I cry
The calm, twilight lingers as her words
soft and low
In the caress of wildflowers where life’s
tranquility forever grows.
O'! Upon thy lips such sweetness dwells
Must be God's design
Born where dandelions and wild bees
forever intertwine.
O', nectar kissed by sun untouched by
human hands
An arcadian panorama of ambrosia
upon my senses' land.
Thine gaze is my beacon in the
moonlit’s silvery velvet light.
You my guiding star ignites
for all my spirit’s journey
O' my soul’s delight
For as a life-alchemists seek nectar
deep in the mountain’s heart.
Thy love's an enchanting lore where peace
like nestling lark.
All the sages sighs, thymes' tempting lore
a beautiful pure chorus
Heather fills rolling landscapes
an untold story before us.
Yes, my love's confession takes flight
with wild abandon
In the sanctuary, a haven bathed
in golden dawn
Thy touch is a sacred psalm
a sonnet on the wind
Radiant grace, I scribe my song
on every blossom's stem
Sunlight filters through sylvan green leaves
just for you.
Thy smile, a warmth that sees my spirit
through and through.
Our love, eternal, untamed by
fleeting space or time.
A taste of heaven's dew
a love of purest and most divine.
Together, hand in hand
we'll stray through life's inviolate maze
Where wildflowers bloom
and hearts forever graze.
No jeweled crown
arrayed in silks and finery
Could display the love, my beloved
I found forever in thee.
For You are my sweet lady,
my songbird
my forever home
My wild mountain honey
where my spirit roams.
In thee, a love unbound
sweeter than sun-kissed dew
My Wild Mountain Honey
forever wild
forever true.
"In the echo of silence, the whispers of the Divine are heard." By Rumi
I entered the winding path into the captivating vale
Surrounded by ice-capped mountains and ancient trees
Firs, larches, redwoods, spruce, and ash, all grand
I shouted in glee: “I’m here!” All around some Echo replied.
A repetitive Echo, always vibrating and mesmerising.
What a singular sound to hear nature at its best!
I lounged beneath the shade of an old maple tree,
Where the verdant vale lay sprawled in front of me.
Balmy breezes blew through dark green trees, an Echo divine.
Tiny thrushes flitted from bush to bush.
They permeated the vale with their familiar songs.
Occasionally they rested on a dense bush,
Hush! Did I hear the song again?
Choirs of echo resounded all around the lush plateau.
Down on the majestic plain, a babbling brook meandered
Towards a clump of cottages, providing water for all.
The rivulet was a sight with fronds of ferns unfolding.
How delightful to hear the water emanating such dulcet echo
As the stream zigzagged around rocks and small waterfalls.
Every echo ended in silence profound and I was in God’s peace.
A holy hymn hummed serene: echo after echo, all divine.
Placed 1
On this mountaintop I sit
In solitude reclined –
For such a heightened lift
Soul-weary did I climb
The world foresworn – a bit
(My aching heart inclined)
A flowing form of art
A hawk goes soaring by
In curving – graceful – arc
Suspended in the sky
It liberates my heart
And with the hawk I fly
Heart to beating heart
Eye to seeing eye
Where forests stretched for miles, and Spirit Lake
lay at its foot, there stood a rebel peak.
One day the earth beneath began to quake.
What havoc Mother Nature was to wreak!
The tremors kept occurring till the day
two craters which had formed began to merge,
erupting ash. Wise folks left right away,
for that volcano soon would surely surge!
Some met their death that eerie Sunday morn
of May eighteenth. The deer began to flee.
Then from the mount, a burst of cloud was born -
a mushroom cloud which bellowed boisterously.
It grumbled and it rumbled, rocketing
for fourteen miles to sky its ice and ash.
Land slid. An avalanche was covering
all things within the path of its mad dash!
By 10:15, a wall of water rushed
down to the river, tearing up the trees
along with boulders as the ash still gushed.
Destruction had been wrought with greatest ease.
The news said Mount St. Helen’s lost her head,
and trees, like matchsticks, lay upon the ground.
Amazingly, despite such loss and dread,
there is new growth of beauty all around!
Written Aug. 13, 2014 for Wordscapes Contest of John Hamilton