Moonlight laid bare the trail.
While limb and root
Reaching from ancient graves,
Sought to delay the inevitable end to this journey.
Climbing, falling, ignoring the pain
Rock and crevice revealed what lives under skin.
The sound of the river
Quelled the cries begging to be attended.
Cresting the butte
I could feel the sun’s rising.
The trill of the smallest of birds
Sang a joyful song of my return.
It was there in that moment
As the crows bellowed in the new day
And the portrait of our distant hills
Greeted me with favorable countenance
I knew I was home.
It Was There

what a beautiful poem Mark……it made me think of how we fight our personal battles lead to victory! and your photo is also lovely! 🙂
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why thank you Wendi! I hope your day is going well
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Beautiful, Meg!
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Beautiful! ❣️
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Thank you
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