Best Trailhead Poems
The trailhead stands there before me,
after two hour's drive,
a peak with a panorama
that others call sublime.
I have been meaning to climb it,
test my will and my heart,
cannot believe it took this long
just to come out this far.
First half-mile is the hardest,
the legs start feeling strain,
bored by long hours of sitting
now they rebel at pain.
Wonder why I keep doing this,
but still I do not stop,
settle into a standard pace
the pain begins to drop.
Around me is a vast forest,
everything looks alike,
like I'm climbing through a tunnel,
and can't rely on sight.
Cling to a narrow walking path,
where others went before,
nothing but endless trees to see,
I thought there would be more.
Now the sweat starts to flow freely,
and the lungs start to heave,
but the peak just keeps on rising,
getting harder to breathe.
The breaks are coming more often,
count my steps to distract
my mind from asking fair questions,
'Why aren't we turning back?'
To go through so much exertion
just to see rocks and pines?
What are we even doing here?
What do we hope to find?
Counting steps no longer working,
my mood is getting rough,
but then a glint of sunlight comes,
outlines a ridge above.
I push despite muscles aching,
despite my tired feet,
tell myself you must feel some pain
if you're to climb the peak.
Trees are now getting much smaller,
the forest starts to thin,
or vista I'd not imagined
I start to get a glimpse...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Categories:
trailhead, journey, life, metaphor, mountains,
Form:
Narrative
everything is beyond green today
even the bluebirds take notice,
and seronade the dancing sun
death is so far away-
iv'e given a name to the Iris
that lives and plays near the trailhead
that has greeted me for a week
cheered my clumsy stride -human scent
white ibis stand still as michaelangelo marble
so gracefull in its wicked intent
the muscrat makes a water path
leaving the eyes in green swirls of silence
i hear voices from a broken farm
voices covered with flutes filled with green shoots
its a good moment to be thankfull
giveback to god a string of green pearls of pleasant thought...
within this moment you hope the blood vessels stay in line,
the heart and brain swallow only calm waves
at least until you get back to the trailhead...
and Iris for being a listening friend
Categories:
trailhead, introspection, nature, green,
Form:
Free verse
Escaping the Clouds
by Odin Roark
Entering one's Now…
How long the traverse.
Mountainous obstacles
Seem not of our creation,
Yet rock hard impasses appear
Where clear path seemed obvious,
Now impassible.
The best laid plans
Swirl amidst the winds of challenge,
Icing our tenacity,
Whiting-out our vision,
Deafening our ears to resolve.
Made to stop,
We seek refuge.
Cower we must,
Time's weather independent
Unaware love's thermal core
Knows but limited defense.
Suffering assumes the time.
We fearfully give it,
Granting indecision
Until we satiate.
Sentience abides.
Patience its virtue.
The conscious
Somehow realize a clearing,
Both path and atmosphere
Reveal survival routes.
Bad weather lifts.
We often know not why.
A path reveals itself,
Accompanied by fixed ropes of trust.
Having exited the overcast,
We embrace our trailhead,
Willingly remove extra weight
No longer needed upon our shoulders.
Stripping to our nakedness
We ready the entering of one's Now,
That place where past and future
Are but interference to being with the moment.
Escape from clouds,
The engulfment we mostly create within.
Categories:
trailhead, dedication,
Form:
Free verse
Sick. Post-alcohol.
Line. Bathroom stall.
Arizona. Trembling soul.
Tourist. Obligatory stroll.
Trailhead. The Grand View.
Crowd. Suffocating solitude.
Death. One false step.
Breathing. Relentless regret.
Categories:
trailhead, places
Form:
Rhyme
Calloused by the do-or-die hero's walk on the perilous road
Over hazard's hill stumbling in soldier's shoes of regret and sorrow
Merciless these wars of tired tyrants, this trailhead I have followed
I should bury these warrior's relics and take a train to tomorrow
Never looking back at my haggard patriot's duty, so torn apart
Go steady, stay strong with freed courage, as my heart's grief
Beats with the journeyed promise of going home unwary to relive
All of my memories there flooding to sing its lost and loving song
Catching 'God Speed' for my soul's simple sanctuary
Knowing these backroads lead to that certainty where I belong
Home
Over hazard's hill of regret and sorrow it waits in restful arbors
Marigolds and carnations embroider a calm and placid peace
Evermore scented in deep-rooted winds leading to my safe harbor
February 16, 2021
Coming Back Home Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton
Categories:
trailhead, conflict, courage, depression, endurance,
Form:
Acrostic
Exiting the Clouds
Entering one's Now
How long the traverse
Mountainous obstacles
Seem not of our creation
Yet rock hard impasses appear
Where clear path seemed obvious
Now impassible
The best laid plans...
Swirl amidst the winds of challenge
Icing our tenacity
Whiting-out our vision
Deafening our ears to resolve
Made to stop
We seek refuge
Cower we must
Time's weather independent
Unaware love's thermal core
Knows but limited challenge
Suffering assumes the time
We fearfully give it
Granting indecision
Until we satiate
Sentience abides
Patience its virtue
The conscious
Somehow realize a clearing
Both path and atmosphere
Reveal survival routes
Ill weather lifts
We often know not why
A path reveals itself
Accompanied by fixed ropes of trust
Having exited the clouds
We embrace our trailhead
Willingly remove extra weight
No longer needed upon our shoulders
Stripping to our nakedness
We ready the entering of one's Now
Categories:
trailhead, philosophy, weather,
Form:
Free verse
Hiking the canyon, the trailhead
below, down the stairs we would dread
in a few hours or so.
Beautiful day, sunny and hot,
Lovely tall pines, shady in spots,
Onward, upward we go!
Forty creek crossings, back and forth
cliffs to the south, likewise the north
What a beautiful day!
Walk the rocks, or get the feet wet.
Up and down banks, are we done yet?
Scrambling the sides each way.
Mouth of the canyon, half way there
A pleasant surprise - nice cold air
Ten degree drop or more!
Walls are so steep, all in the shade,
narrowing in, increase in grade,
thinking ‘bout what we wore.
There at the top, reaching the goal
Canyon’s dead end, double-arched bowl
Water seeps from the rock
PB&J, cinnamon bread
Throw in an orange, pretty good spread
Delightful place to stop
After a rest, letting Viv run
Now it’s time to reverse the fun
Forty creek crossing reps
Legs getting weary, already sore
Seems round the bend, there’s always more,
and don’t forget the steps!
Huffing and puffing, near crawled out,
Reach the parking lot with a shout
Pleased to have gone so far
Beautiful day out on the trail
All made it back, hearty and hale,
but thankful for the car
—————
A Rime Couee, aabccb, 8/8/6/8/8/6, not crazy about it but figured I would try it out…
Categories:
trailhead, adventure,
Form:
Other
A venetian red yearling’s head
Pops up
From behind a fallen log
Licks rouge from its lips
And the syrup sipped from dark maple bark
Ears tweaking
To the snow-crunch creak
Of my dog and me approaching
From down the trail
Forest
Tamed by these trampled snow-winding paths
The deer doesn’t flinch
Up ahead
Top of the trash receptacle
Is aflutter with cardinals and sparrows
Though observed
The object has not coalesced to solid reality
Remains a quiver of particles
Withering with infinite probabilities
This should not be
Ah
I see
What it is
Slices of strawberry apple orange watermelon banana cherry
Have been perfectly aligned spaced and placed
By somebody
As juicy trails of treats for the starving
Collection of fruit on a countertop log
Tapped across a fencepost
Table-topped to a stump
Necklaced across a trailhead sign
Little delectable rainbows scattered by a hand
All over the park
Flamingos may come
Hearing these rumors
I imagine
The feminine work behind these succulent lifesavers
The work of a woman
A mother
An older lady
Who was determined that morning
Packing plastic baggies the night before
With morsels carefully counted out
To be fair
With a lovely variety of fruit
Pinched and selected from grocery store shelves
Sliced precisely by her parry knife
Sorry if that presumption is not acceptable
In this modern age
But we all know it’s true
And is beautiful
Call her a wayward witch
An angel
Messalina
Daughter of Cleopatra
Mistress to Van Gogh
Wife of Jesus
A goddess of which we’d be so much better
If she were
To rule over
The velvet corners of the Earth
From a garden throne
Men like me
Bowed to her knee
Like these animals and birds that she’s fed
Today
Beholden to the world of majik
Yes
We’d be so much better
If we were fed from the broken-braceleted hand
Of a woman
Who
From her kitchen window
And snake-led dreams at the flight of her feet
Is unafraid to say
I do not fear you
I will bring forgiveness to the creatures of winter
Startle the men who pass by
I will feed them all
The fruit of my Knowledge.
Categories:
trailhead, angel, animal, earth, january,
Form:
Free verse
Lost in the woods
Are you kidding?
My feet they’re freezing
We’re lost in the woods!
We’re lost in the woods!
You warned me of mud
And you certainly didn’t disappoint
And now there’s even snow
I think I want to go home
Which direction is out
Will anyone hear if we shout
Has the ranger done his rounds
Yes I’m so cold I’m jumping up and down
Lost in the woods
Are you kidding?!
My feet they’re freezing
We’re lost in the woods!
We’re lost in the woods!
I’m trying to walk in the footprints
Of others who’ve braved these elements
And there’s not very many
How far away from the road are we really?
You think you know the way to the trailhead?
I’ve been following all day so what the hey
No internet on our phones out here
So the maps are useless oh dear
Lost in the woods
Are you kidding?
My feet they’re freezing
We’re lost in the woods!
We’re lost in the woods!
Yikes! We really are lost aren’t we?
February 27, 2021
Categories:
trailhead, humorous, song,
Form:
Lyric
Trailhead latrine,
cracked mirror—
three of me grinning wrong.
A soap shaver's chewed itself down,
there's a beetle on its back in the basin.
I clean my hands as best I can,
wipe them on my pants,
get out,
back into wilderness,
where I don't have to face them.
Categories:
trailhead, conflict, self,
Form:
Free verse
*A young man went out for a stroll
into a remote patch of icy blue Adirondak
It's been a few moons since he was last seen
they discovered his lithium car at the trailhead
A white broom swept his footprints off the map
They posted a vision of him sitting in the sunshine.
They're searching low and high for that cherub smile
Prayers are swirling like glitter in a snow globe
the ranger whispers about windchill and hope
forecaster says a fresh foot of devilish snow
they postponed the search until tomorrow
They say a cardinal may chirp a psalm
when souls wander into the beyond
A young man went out for a stroll*
Categories:
trailhead, adventure, nature,
Form:
Free verse
When you're lost in those woods, it sometimes takes you a while to realize that you are lost. For the longest time, you can convince yourself that you've just wandered off the path, that you'll find your way back to the trailhead any moment now. Then night falls again and again, and you still have no idea where you are... It's time to admit that you have strayed so far off the path that you don't even know from which direction the sun rises anymore. If & when you find your way back you will have to accept that many friends and family lost faith and gave up their search for whatever reasons. The ones that didn't if any will always hold a special place in your heart. Do not hate the ones who left you in the cold though, remember they had to grieve for the person they didn't believe you could be.
Categories:
trailhead, absence, analogy, blessing, depression,
Form:
Verse
Can’t just jump to the finish line
Need to put in the work along the way
Would be nice to only reap the gains
But no shortcuts despite what others say
Progress needs to build upon itself
Can’t just jump to the finish line
Collecting credits creates compounding
Building up as our thoughts begin to shine
Focus on improving the inputs
The outputs will come in due time
Can’t just jump to the finish line
Must start at the trailhead for our climb
After reaching the summit we may
Realize the mosaic in the puzzle design
Stop to reflect before scaling a new mountain
Because we can’t just jump to the finish line
Categories:
trailhead, analogy, encouraging, inspiration,
Form:
Rhyme
The man went for a mountain run,
told his fiancé of his plans.
A sundial slowly waltzed on by...
but the man never came back.
They called in search and rescue.
They spread out far into the wild.
Loved ones posted a picture of him.
Donning the future's angelic smile.
The hours speedily turned into days.
The days bleeding into weeks.
White weather swallowed the mountain...
The search dwindled down to nothing.
They said they'd resume the search.
When the weather cleared.
It was an especially devilish season.
So, they never really did.
Talked turned from hope to closure.
Blue hearts folded tight in prayer.
Quickly turned into paper airplanes.
On a lost flight called pure despair.
In the spring his remains were found.
On the banks of a silver whispering.
The cause of death was undetermined.
I believe it was mostly due to living.
A memorial blossomed at the trailhead.
Some woven from his personal affects.
Things that had great meaning in his life
but were quite meaningless to death.
Categories:
trailhead, adventure, lost,
Form:
Rhyme