From just beyond the ski lift
Up here we hold our breath for the
Earth, so as not to blow away the miracle
in front of us. Learn how a douglas fir
prays with anyone listening. How the mountain
bluebird gives its name to a clear day.
Mischief moon, masquerading in the
daylight. Dancing toes first in this
slippery middle. Attending with tilt
with ease. A prim princess —
as she twists her hand just so
as attention, as salute.
Wind tells me yesterday is today
is next. I find comfort in that.
This is simply a nature reflection from a recent attempt at skiing-turned-snowshoeing. Funnily enough when I started writing songs/poems I told myself I would “never be the guy who writes nature poems” because it’s “lame”. Well the me who said that is lame. Nature poems rock.
I was also 13, so I’ll cut me some slack.
If you have a blue sky, go try and find the moon in it today. It’s always a marvel. In Washington the non-gull, non-crow birds are beginning their happy ruckus again — if only a poem could capture their songs!