Saturday, December 29, 2018

One and the Same

I used to love the downhills best
Tapping the ground quickly, a bird taking off in flight 
for a few moments in time, again and again
Tap tap, flap flap

My body relaxed breathing
in the world breathing out the pain.
I ran because it was the only time
I was free from a world where who I was
Was already decided for me

With Running, each thought
was just of the next step
In that world everything
was as it should be
Tap tap, flap flap

That was then and this is now.
I love the uphills,
Where once I found pain & suffering
I find peace grinding pain into growth
The steeper the better.
Trails become the mortar
and my legs the pestle
Grind grind, grind grind

On one of these steep ascents
A herd of Mountain goats appeared
Agile, scaling the steep and rocky ledges,
the alpine environment
Providing them with protection
From predators

Their heads poking out of the clouds
Thick coats like snow
hooves grey as rock
For a moment I wondered
if they were real
Had the mountain come to life?

The animals and the mountain
telling a story
Where the mountain
didn’t end with rock and snow,
but with feet and hooves
Thick coats and eyes
above the clouds
As though the two were
one and the same. 

🏔 🐐

Friday, December 28, 2018


I am naked
but fully dressed
in front of you.
You call it blunt, I call it honesty.

Snow is falling outside
At first only small flakes, 
So tiny that it could be rain 
Or a gust of wind unsettling
The powder that weighs down on the roof.

You tell me that you have been hurt
That I do not have time for you
That you're not willing to try.
I read the space between the words,
like the colors in the clouds above, 
Instead of the small snowflakes coming down.

The colors are deep blue and grey, 
The clouds look bruised and swollen 
They tell of a great storm.
Just another day in the mountains

Even in the storm, 
The deep snow will protect 
even the most exposed trees
From the extreme cold
At least that's what you told me
Everything has a purpose

I can read you like that,
But I don't say anything I just agree. 
Because I am scared too.

Written on 12/28/18

The Mountain

There is a place 
Where the clouds rest
Snow shapes the hills 
Dark green trees protecting 
The mountain lions that hunt within their branches
The hawk that hops through the snow 
to pick at a dead fawn, startled, in a split second, 
He is now prey, and my dog and I, the predators 
as he can not fly off through the thick trees. 
Like all wild beasts he knows 
That all predators are another’s prey. 
We move by with a glance of respect 
Our lives briefly touched by this truth 
Of the mountain

Written on 12/14/18