In Nature

“We do not inherit the earth from our ancestors, we borrow it from our children.” ~ Native American Proverb

Nothing clears the mind quite like a weekend in the mountains. A (surprisingly) stifling heater in the cabin didn’t hurt of course, but it just made the impact of walking out those doors and into the sunny, snow-struck earth all the more striking. Now it’s back to the real world. At least I face it refreshed.

Never seen Mountains

Keeping to a “short but sweet” theme that seems to be overarching my poetry this week, I give you a Haiku. Enjoy:

Never seen Mountains;

the inner is higher than

without: nothing known.

 

Posted in conjunction with the Thursday Poets Rally.

And by the by, as a part of that, I nominate Kavita! Read any of her stuff. You’ll quickly figure out why.

Midnight Mountain Ride

Midnight ring

nightingale screech of metal grind

vestiges of slumber—

in silent Chaos writhe

the World all sheltered black,

this Veil, it doth descend

betwixt the Heavens and the Earth

no more Fire, no more Song

yet Dappled Emeralds gleam

throughout the Haze of Waking

this World rise, Higher and Higher

tilting back, breathing in

the clouds, circling pull

Dream yet from Reality

and Everything of this Canvas,

rides Higher still into the Night

Destination: World

set it all below, and looking down

bask within the Golden River Shadow

of History shaped and cast

into the Towers of Majesty

Beyond Imagination—

the Stars and the Sea,

no King might ever rise

so High as thee.

* Another poem for the wonderful Monday Poetry Potluck, as hosted by Jingle Poetry, and those lovely poets Amanda and Kavita! The theme this week was mountains and beaches, and I couldn’t help but think back to my most recent venture in Colorado. This one was inspired by my time there in the summer–I hope you enjoy! Hope you don’t mind that I also took the opportunity to throw in some more of my pictures from that trip, even if they don’t match up quite specifically with the poem itself.

Beneath the Waves

Photo by Chris Galford

White water rush,

cool crystal commence

the crashing of my flesh

subverted in the waves

of vigorous caress,

still on, this mountain roar–

a silent stillness, in the drink.

Ride on

I will ride you down.

Weather the weather,

Gnash tooth and claw

This spear, your arm

Outstretched to meet me

Like a wall of flesh

No more, no more

Come dust and earth

On bitter wind blow

I am vengeance

Ride on, ride on

And I will bear you down

Ride on, ride on

My lance, my passion

My steed, my life

Put up your steel

And dig your feet

I ride and ride for thee

Ride on, ride on

This barren waste is wasted

Ride on, ride on

Cracked and peel and broke asunder

Torn hoof and heel

I soar, as an eagle on the wind

Above the mountain heights

As both sink lower to the earth

Scarlet memory flow

Here falls, here rides

The mad man dead upon the field

And I am here, and staggering on

Ride on, ride on

A breath, a life, a broken soul

Ride on, ride on.

My latest contribution to the wonderful One Shot Poetry Wednesdays! If you happen to notice a correlation of theme, or at least, imagery, between this and last week’s submission, though, you’d be right. Congratulations. I’ve had this whole cavalry sort of notion stuck in my head for a bit now, and both of these were a result of that. Once you’ve had a look, check out some of the other One Shot Poets as well– they’re a skilled bunch of poets, looking to form a community and support one another.  Enjoy!

A Catalog of Colorado

It’s been several weeks now since I returned from Colorado, and aside from a few shots used to accentuate some of my poems, I’ve not posted all that many shots from the trip. This is to set things right. Though I took hundreds of shots while out and about in the mountainous state, I have selected a few here as a sort of highlight real for the trip. WordPress, I think, would be quite upset with me if I tried to upload everything. In fact, I think I’d be liable to break the bloody system.

So here, in a nutshell, is my trip. What better inspiration could one have asked for? Sights featured in my shots include Rocky Mountain National Park, the Red Rocks and Red Rocks Amphitheater, my brother and sister-in-law’s home, and just a few shots from the more nature-inclined areas around Denver, CO.

Moya and Ares

The family.

Red Rocks Amphitheater

My brother, Jim

The folks

At the top of the world.

Moose!

My sister-in-law, Cassie.

Another set of Colorado Haiku

What you may notice about these Haiku is that they do not, in fact, have to do with the mountains themselves, as many of the my previous works have. Though these came from my time in Colorado, they were inspired by other sights around me–the city of Denver, for one, the sight of the towering mountain mines for another.

Also, while there are more still to come, I want to say that once again, there may be another brief hiatus on posting as I head north. I will only be gone for a few days, and when I return, posting will resume as normal.

In the meantime, enjoy:

Split the rock below,

Drills bore into deepest hold—

Dead men tell no tales.

Rocky mile high club

Five hundred thousand souls strong

No wonder they smile.

Beyond the pale light

Sleeps the gilded dragon king—

Fear the reigning flame.

Fire on the Mountain

Perhaps its because neither of these posts come with photos, but today I feel struck with the urge to drop two poems on you. The first was about my night ride through the mountains, and like its predecessor, this one is all in the title: a fire on the mountain. This one in particular saddens me for not capturing, but the fire struck as the evening was coming on, high up in the mountains, and I was caught in my car, in the seat opposite it, far and away from the actual site of the flames. What few shots I did get were marred by the glass and the swirl of the smoke.

Even so, I composed a poem of it, as it still struck me, even from a distance. Fire. Destruction. Beauty. We often focus on the destructive power of fire, but like any other element of our world, there is an unrivaled sense of beauty to it. We fear it, but it is only natural. It may herald destruction, but it is also a forerunner to creation, a key part of the cycle of death and rebirth.

Fire on the Mountain

Black skies loom over the valley—

There’s a fire on the mountain

Like a lighthouse in the night

And the smoke is rising,

Lightning sparks the hills

And only then

The houses in the trees.

A Night among the Mountains

This is a poem dedicated to the city of Denver. I wrote it as we were winding our way through the mountains one night, gradually descending on the city from the trails above. It made for a lovely sight, this city cradled in the mountains, shining like a sea of lights. Behind it, all the mountains were darkness, black forms rising up to kiss the gathering clouds. It left an impression. Sadly, I have no picture accompaniment for this one, but I hope the poem suffices:

Silhouettes in the distance

Hold them in their shadow,

This City of Lights

Winding through the paths

Beneath the mountains they shade.

Summer Snow

Yep, that's me!

Well I have returned at last from my trip to Colorado. Suffice to say, it was a beautiful trip, every minute of it. I have always felt a calling to the mountains, and I personally feel my brother is a lucky man to live amongst them. Wonderful places–breathtaking scenery, bizarre weather, and the perfect spots for exercise and the embrace of creativity. I now have more than 300 pictures added to my library, some of which you will probably see attached to some of my work in the days to come.

I saw a number of places while I was in-state. From bustling downtown Denver, to the foothills of the Rocky Mountains, Red Rocks, Rocky Mountain National Park, and the city of Boulder (about as artsy a town as one might find), among others. Between the sight-seeing and the time spent catching up with family, however, I am proud to say I also accomplished a great deal of work. Both there and on the flight, both in terms of poetry and my novel, I made great headway, and I will be posting the results of the weeks to come.

To start us out, I have a poem inspired by a climb to the heights of the Rocky Mountains where, despite broiling 80 degree temperatures below, a beautiful field of snow awaited, and on the peaks for miles around. A bit breezy, by the way, and I had the brilliant idea of hiking in shorts and a t-shirt. Terrible fun, but a wee bit chilly.

So to begin:

14,000 Feet Above the World

Snowball fights in shorts;

The sun beats down

Atop the world.

Slipping along the rocks

I stumble out to see the world,

And I am Freedom,

Dangling over Nothing

In the summer heat.