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.

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Winter Fire

Trails wind into the heart of winter,

Built serpentine through rock and wood.

The life runs through it,

Bursting through the seams.

White earth rain down

Upon the precipice—

Shield your eyes against the light,

There is fire in the winter sheen.

Nothing ends in Nothing

I thought I saw the street

But the signs were bare,

No cars or coaches anywhere.

Cracked cobbles

Ran the road—

Broken bricks

Snapped beneath the silence.

Such oppression—

The strongest path

Would fade.

Round and round

The wheels spin—

But in the silence,

All is still.

The world dies

Without the motion–

Unused.

Betray not my Way

Never may

I sing of Day

When I have gone astray.

The Night

Gives many such a fright

Yet it is no haunting blight.

Such a sight!—

I hope to write

Of such delight,

Excite in disarray

Neither madness nor decay—

Betray not my Way.