Call of the Mountain

 

Mountain Stirrings

 

 

Awoke this morn in pine-scented bough-bed to a greyish hint of dawn

Sniffed chill air, then spied meadow doe attending her wee spotted fawn

Thanked Him for another blessed day like all those before, now since gone

 

Pure snow-white peaks already kissed by yon sun way high up yonder

Shadowed verdant green to tree line splendor in holy awesome’s wonder

Yellow orb struggles to breach far summit at clarion distant roll of thunder

 

As day prevails to ban the night, now begin familiar mountain stirrings

My loyal range steed whinny-calls a demand for his early daily currying

A camp robber jay complains aloud while ground squirrels go a-scurrying

 

White-barked aspen golden leaves flutter in nature’s choreographed dances

At deep secluded blue lake there far off the wapiti herd silent purpose-prances

I tend fire the night-coals to stir up warmth which self-pleasure surely enhances

 

Fill ancient blackened pot with crystal water trickling from yonder natural spring

Slice bacon thick to the skillet-pan, add in wild onion or another delicate, tasty thing

Then, so completely satiated I might just challenge these tired worn vocal chords to sing

 

Stand tall to stretch old tan-weathered hands through clear cerulean blueness

Wipe clean yon trusty Bowie, then hone its edge to razor-sharp keen newness

Deep purple shadows recede relentless day verging softly violet hue-ness

 

Rustle up bunch grass for reliable ’ole Smoke’s awaited breakfast meal

Contemplate Almighty Artist’s vista; savor a distant elk’s plaintive bugle peal

Glimpse a silvertip at the river and a cousin-pair: a blue- and green-winged teal

 

Myriad fluffy white clouds invade the vast expanse of horizon western skies

Here, in this near-heaven, pathetic civilization, modest majestic nature defies

Though not a learned man in formal erudite prose, a tingle sparks poetic surmise

 

Snug lodge, part cave, some man, upon the comfort pine-y southern slope

Paradise shared by the Indian-girl and child ’til cold evil death did interlope

Broke tender heart, tore poor soul, yet spirit belief embraced eternal heaven-hope

 

The “then” was now, important, alas, until the fleeting-instant history-passed

To perceived “present” here and quickly gone in album memory-print amassed

Perhaps imagined “future” come through near obfuscated reflection-visions cast

 

Prepare sojourn on vacant trace to fragrant path ablaze in palette-vibrant color find

View clear His face while touch sublime gifts; to man and nature be always kind

In thy soul resides a sacred grace: mountain stirrings, wild winds purely refined