A Walk Up the Mountain

A walk up the Mountain

rattling bones in a fleshy vessel,

charging through the embraced freedom of nature,

sights of rolling mountains that steal the life source from within,

the breath of invigorating life and purity of energy,

Drawn out through the awe of beauty in skipping steps high beyond,

These eyes will be gone and so the memories with it,

Sights of unmatched perfection with grass tinged orange,

If it made the moment ugly for a fleeting chance of insight it never would,

Chasing the simple story of the dipping sun behind the mountain,

A new story of darkness would crash over each slope of once frost bitten then awakened March grass,

Would any eyes see passed that Mountain as the sun plummets with our cycle?

Running through the uneven grass mounds chasing the last sights the sun will give,

As laughter bursts like the legs spontaneity of ideas,

Crumpled laying back on grass of blissful exhaustion,

There will be no eye's left one day to see this once more only rattling bones.

The only perfect day of stinging cold fingers and a lung full of fresh cold air,

Freed from a frustration gained through the fruitless efforts to force some things that should never be,

Could this ease be all that concerns now? as an alignment in the universe did all the hard work,

Fell so perfectly into imperfect existence and radiates a warmth of security,

And perfectly will lay deep in the oak roots to spring life into the flowers for all to see.