…your path is waiting

by Elizabeth Cunningham

Where is mountain, where is sky? Mist and cloud may know

or merge unknowing: where is water, where is air?

Between peak and valley, day and night, where am I? 

I did not plan to take this precipitous trail,

blue trail markers lure me up and up to blue sky.

I cannot resist, just one more step and one more….

The sea has tides and waves; mountains, peaks and valleys.

Ocean lover, here I am climbing slow rock swells

borne by tides of breath to rest on the mountain’s crest. 

I did not expect to fall in love with mountains,

on my hands and knees at sixty climbing rock trails

and on my tail, sliding down, glad to be alive.

Just one other car in the trail head parking lot,

sun breaking through as it sets on new-fallen snow,

rosy mountains, cold wind, last dry leaves whispering.

Winter begins, mountains gathering snow and ice

trees bowed by storms then bared when wind blows or sun melts.

Elizabeth, wear snow shoes, your path is waiting. 

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