Sunday, December 1, 2013

I want to BE there

the mountain’s moods

I need to feel fresh
every time I go outside in the Smokies
so that however the forest feels
I can wear that mood, too,

so that I can hear whatever leaf of story
floats down the creek,

so that I can know the quickly fleeting and the slowly changing,

so that I can know the constancy of being an instrument
upon which the mountain plays,

I was last here in high summer
when I sought to escape the heavy humid heat
and the forest was full of frenzy to make, to do,

now winter is upon us--
trees bare but for a light snow lining them
and a fire draws me in rather than pushes me away,

I missed the fall up here
as instead I fell and broke a bone
and I missed the golden moods between green and bare,

familiarity isn’t all that can dull me:
rather I must leave all the needs of my lowland life
which callous how I can feel with nerves already used elsewhere.    

by Henry H. Walker
November 28, ’13

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