White Noise

beside me races the brawny river,
Mother Earth’s lifeline cascading from snowy peaks and forcing its winding path
down, down, down,
it’s miracle reaching through the circle of all living things

rippling and licking at the pure mountain air,
it opens and closes its sunlit doors
as it folds and rolls over itself,
kneading and knotting the collective thread of the life it feeds, 
past, present, and future into one connectedness,
while projecting its time-ridiculing ROAR

I feel in my bones,
the reverberation of its irony –

fast, fast, fast,
it flows,
it’s commanding voice reminding me to
slow, slow, slow,
to listen

for we all end up back where we began
if we only
follow, follow, follow

our spirits are ROARING,
the lifelines feeding our souls, 
forging our winding paths,
speaking to us with powerfully pure voices,
ones which are not ever meant to become 
white noise

-image is mine; poem dedicated to my mountain friend; shared as part of dVerse’s open link night

Gifted

there’s a place where there is no sound
where breathing doesn’t exist
and awe is all that courses veins
where nothing unearthly is missed

there’s a place where past collides
with future on prodigious scale
where something larger than ourselves
infiltrates the heart, the holy grail

there’s a place where the soul is still
where oneness with all is felt
and reverence for life and love a’blooms
where once cold has dwelt

oh, Rocky Mountains, high
thank you for gifting my soul
for calling to my dearest friend
who helps to make my heart whole

I’ll miss you both

-photo is mine