OUR SPIRITS RAISED…BY HERS, SUITABLY PHRASED. 😀
Forest spirits linger high and
wonder at the changing sky.
Sky blue interlaces with clouds
above summer mountains blue.
Below, dark gorges are punctuated
by sharp granite shoulders, themselves
overlaid by softening moss quilts.
The still quiet is
broken by the first raindrop,
a mouse scurries for cover,
and the Lost River roars welcome.
I lose my worries at the feet of granite giants,
feel them washed free by rain hunting
the Lost River, hidden deep underground.
Its voice emerges from caves,
behind glacial boulders and over waterfalls.
Even the forest spirits are silenced.
That powerful roar
intrigues and captivates.
In the waterfall is the full fury.
What were my worries?
They pale beside river spirits,
kinfolk to the forest spirits.
The Lost River surges,
its voice amplified by
last night’s thundershowers
coupled with today’s sprinkles.
My spirit expands.
Copyright 2015 Brenda Davis Harsham
Note: These photographs were taken today at the Lost River Gorge. Over 1300 steps led…
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