Tuesday, November 27, 2018

Wildflowers on the yonder tundra-wild

 
Summit-wildflowers
 
Well above tree-line by a thousand feet, or so,
around 11,500, I reckon, on my cold, icy-trek
to the tumble of boulders at the end of the trail,
yonder, where I can perch atop-the-world to
survey the peaks along the Rocky Mountain-
spires reaching toward-heaven---and…beyond.
 
Short of breath, but, with the “prize” just within
exerted-reach, I rested for a gulp of redeeming,
albeit, “thin”-air; hands on knees for support, my
downcast-eyes spied a tiny red-flower hugging the
tundra, shivering its full-height of 2-inches in the frigid
north-breeze fresh upon the rocky-floor moss-covered.
 
Such find of a nature “treasure-measure”-surprise
gave the interloper pause to contemplate the “gift”.
 
Standing tall and looking across the tundra-field with
relaxed-eyes like one had to do way back yonder when
viewing a hologram to discern the “hidden”-in-plain-sight
“secret”-find within the “obvious” depiction-subject of  the
poster-picture, I spied a plethora of subtle palette-colors interspersed
across the chilled-plane; reds, yellows, blues and hinted-greens.
 
I conquered the “summit” that day. Sitting on a cabin-sized
boulder sheltered by an even larger-protrusion to protect myself
from the cold-assault of a frigid north-wind hard-scouring the
surrounding tundra. As I snuggled deeper into my goose-down
jacket, pulled the hood and lashed it tight around my woolen-hat,
pulled my cold fingers into a ball inside my fur-lined leather-gloves,
I wondered at the very-marvel of this Awesome-wonder, the beauty
of my mountain-paradise, pure-white snow, yonder, the crowning-
glory of Long’s Peak proudly-piercing 13,000feet. And, in that
fantastic magic-grandeur---a humble-spirit lesson…Wildflowers!
 
As a cold-sun, masquerading-warmth, traversed the cerulean-abyss,
I sat, huddled against the cold-fury of the mountain, comforted
in my warm-“igloo”, inhaling a freshness not to be experienced
in any other circumstance. When ole-man sun reached for its
eternal western-horizon yonder Pacific Ocean-way, long-grey
shadows covered the exposed tundra awaiting a midnight’s respite.
 
Sleep-well! Oh! My magnificent Wildflower”-pretties upon yon tundra!
Amen!


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