Reaching For Peaks
The ponderous fog lifted early,
now the widening bounteous blue
makes its presence known,
my feet stay on the ground,
but my eyes climb an upward
journey passing slowly in review
and as big as passion itself.
I'm gently carried to another height,
a caressing contentment and quiet period
where the depths of inspiration
seem limitless among the sculptural
mountains that slope near, then
irregularly lift and fall, and beyond
every heightening, a new heightening waits.
Resting on the mountaintops, one huge
cloud with scalloped edges of mighty
morning shine, and lingering high above
are the smoldering sunbeams, therefore,
ranks of gold in scattered grandeur
are put on view wherever it falls.
A wandering river coursing unhindered,
alongside, verdant fern that's spread out
like green lace, but also sated
pines in their stateliness of movement.
Reaching for mountain peaks so that
serenity stretches out its sensors
to relieve any inner restlessness or
turbulence while steadying my hurried pace.
Copyright © Barbara Johnson | Year Posted 2009
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