In this wilderness hour

Nature is so multi-dimensional. It never can make sense in a mathematical, technical sense. For me the only way to understand it is to show you in words what I've seen with my own eyes. Poems like this are fun to write, and easier than most. It is just a translation...nature in translation you could say and that is exciting. Almost like a collection of images, but those images are in you, the reader. How good this poem may or may not be is left to you to imagine...



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Imagine your mind in this place
Let it echo in your skull
Let it chisel its way through worries to calmness
Let it fasten onto your bones and sinew
Carry you through the night
Rip you from your mind
Set you on a wayward flight

In darkness IMAGINE

…whispers of night talkers talking to you
And listen up good fellow
Know in those words are more than hollow truths
Go where they may lead you
Go from your cold tent into the night breathing like some great beast
Let the sweet, sour fragrance wash over you
Of dead and dying flowers, of life gone by this summer’s bright hour
Of the beginnings of fall and the awakened night’s calls
Let them wrestle you from your worries beating in your ears
Like sweet apple pie you gobble up those fears
A rustled bush
A shadow cast with a ghoulish mask
A tree forming and reforming into a million shapes
A waving branch like evil spirits flying capes
A faraway sound a creature sure to smite you
But nothing but the night
Nothing but its wisdom in the air to delight

Under stars IMAGINE

…yourself encased beneath this open sky
A man with eyes as big as saucer cups, fascinated by
The face of Universe
The face of everything
The face you forgot about, only now remembered

In arms of nature IMAGINE

…warm wind mixed with cold
that does not shelter you from time sweeping swiftly by
or the gentle night you hungered for
that brought you out of shelter to see and know
that curiosity is a blessing, like a seed grown into a flower
something you didn't realize as beautiful
until you witnessed it with your own eyes
the buzzing, bountiful petri dish of life you slumbered in
the peeking, leering eyes
a blooming rose, grey in the moonlight

In this wilderness hour IMAGINE

…a dawning sun's gritty eyes awakening above valley fog
to shead light and morning like a broom
sweeping hillside and lakeshore, city building and muddied moor
sweeping glacier carvings of hip and thigh
of natures form and body
Sweeping sleeping boulders some giant must've cast
into forest and lake, valley and stream
seemingly everywhere this sun swept
across meadows, rivers, forests
across everything you have yet to know
In the hours and hours still to come
left to imagine…