Traveler
Watching the sun rise high through the sky. With mist rising peacefully off a nearby lake. I beheld a flock of geese conversing Atop a ridge, there was a glimpse Of horses running, rearing, and bucking. In greeting to the morning sun.
Standing on a summit Looking down into a valley Filled with gently rolling banks of mist The peaceful sounds of morning Emerged in perfect clarity.
As a butterfly emerges from a cocoon The animals woke to feed, drink and rejoice In the joyous stillness of the morning sun.
The sun signifies a promise Of the spiritual awakening Of countless people in the days to come.
We passed over mountains Through hills and plains Crossed bridges spanning Lakes and streams I saw forests all around That abound with alders, Birch and cottonwood. Poplars, oak, and a spattering Of evergreen to balance The combination.
The trees were colored with the Turning of the seasons. The mist obscured And made mysterious What’s behind. The plains were colored with Amber waves of grasses and grains. Where plants abound and Nature roams free
The rocks were black And red and grey This description proclaims And clarifies Our glorious pilgrimage
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Author's Notes
This is a poem that I wrote while traveling in Washington state from East to West to see the Temple in Seattle. I watched the terrain as we drove through the "empty" spaces between towns and cities. Listening to the animals and other sounds of nature.
I spent most of the time drifting, not quite sleeping, thinking of our connections to nature as it passed us by. As we went along, I wrote down the ideas as they came, arranging them into verses later when we stopped. I've written a few other poems with similar subject matter.