Monster Shadows

 

Where monsters lurk

Cast your shadow,
Moonlight bright.
Wake the moment,
Stir the night.

Treetops sparkle,
With muted light.
Boulders hiding,
On my right.

Something scampers,
Taking flight.
It’s small and quick,
With stripes of white.

Night sounds near,
But out of sight.
Do I run,
Or stand and fight?

A distant shriek,
Causes fright.
But nothing gets me,
And I’m all right.

To the campfire,
Still flickering bright.
Its guarding sphere,
A realm of light.

Flames mostly yellow,
A few are white.
At first, I stare
But then look right.

What is that there,
Beyond my sight?
Out in the darkness,
Of the night.

Unseen monsters,
I think to fight.
And once again,
I ponder flight.

Then magically,
There’s no more fright.
The monsters flee
It’s first daylight.

Audio Version: 

The forest at night

Oasis

Pondering

Islands in the sea of life,
Respites to the strife.
Lean on back against a tree,
Daydream of what might be.

See the forests, touch the rocks,
Feel the dirt and watch a fox.
Drink a raindrop, hug the trees,
And savor every gentle breeze.

Walk the path, stay on the trail,
Don’t let the bumps your life derail.
Should a river block your way
Wade in and cross it, you’ll be okay

When a whirlwind grabs and sends
Your moments into dizzy spins.
Find your footing, breathe in deep,
You can count on nature, your soul to keep.


Audio Version:

On top of Bullseye

Good Senses

Looking into the Copper Canyon backcountry

Starry nights
And faraway lights.
Where storm clouds go
And a wild lightning show.

Above the peak
And the end of the trail.
Crossing a log
And staying out of the bog.

Warm days in winter
And fields full of color.
Snowfall in summer
And a distant drummer.

Intriguingly perched boulders
And birds flying south.
The movements of herds
And undefined words.

Second winds found
And hills lit by the sun.
Uncharted miles
And grandeur that smiles.

Mysterious corners
And faces in logs.
Waves rolling in
And time without end.

Branches all tangled
And stickers that stick.
Why campfires smoke
And cause you to choke.

The bacon that’s cooking
And ants that don’t bite.
Dust Devils on the horizon
And moments that wizen.

Unknown new roads
And scratching an itch.
At the top of the climb
And the future time.

Life fills up your mind
And lights up your path.
So, free your spirit to wander,
There’s so much to ponder.

Audio Version:

A campfire to smell

Inside a Bolivian Mine

Unexpected Footbridge in Mexico

My wife, Lori, and I ended up in the city of Potosi on the last part of our Bolivian vacation. After considering various things to do around the city, we selected the “mine tour” option. The city is over 200 miles south of the capital city of La Paz. At 13,400 feet of elevation, it’s one of the world’s highest cities. And, as we found out, it’s dominated by a big mountain named Cerro Rico, which has been mined regularly for silver since the Spaniards were the rulers.

Continue reading “Inside a Bolivian Mine”

Showtime

Stars of the show

See the face
In clouds that race
Across the sky
Into your eye.

Feel the touch
Of ground and such.
Of rocks and sand
And unknown land.

Hear the quiet
Of ants that riot,
Rocks that hum,
And falling crumb.

Smell the rain,
The ripened grain,
Unbridled mare,
And newborn air.

Taste the dust
And gulp the gust.
Drink dripping ice.
Make dirt your spice.

Chew the fat.
Watch the gnat.
Touch the grime,
And yucky slime.

Feed the campfire,
Avoid the briar,
Ski the scree,
Don’t squish a flea

Sit and ponder,
Look and wander.
Always more to know
In nature’s show.

Audio Version:

Waterfall on the Middle Fork of the Popo Agie

Guaymas, 1971- Revisited

Unexpected Footbridge in Mexico

It was Christmas break of my sophomore year in high school when Jake and I took off from Denton. We geared up and drove his parent’s VW Camper/van (with their permission), bound for Mexico with a stop in Douglas, Arizona. The plan was to meet up in Douglas with an older, more mature person named Jim, whom I knew from the summer camp where I had worked the previous summer. From there, the three of us would travel to Guaymas, Mexico, where we’d camp, have some quality beach time, and experience a bunch of “neat adventure stuff.” In the van, we had scuba gear packed away under one of the seats in cardboard boxes, places to sleep, and we must have had some food somewhere. (Note- I’m not sure how we got our parents to agree to the plan. Although I do remember it being a good thing that we would be under the supervision of someone older).
Jake and I drove to Douglas, where we connected with Jim at his parent’s house. We spent a day there doing “the friends visiting from out of town” routine, which included supper across the border in Agua Prieta. The next day we loaded Jim’s baggage into the van and took off across the border toward the coastal city of Guaymas, which we had randomly chosen as our destination.

Continue reading “Guaymas, 1971- Revisited”

Rich

backpacker walking down a dirt road in the mountains with the Aspen trees turninggolden.

Count your wealth
In soaring trees,
Dunes of sand,
And sprawling seas.

In Limestone rocks,
Granite faces,
Grassy meadows,
And open spaces.

In thorny cactus,
Whitetail Deer,
Rolling plains,
And rivers clear.

In moonlit nights,
Gentle snows,
Trails of dirt,
And cawing crows.

In Bison herds,
Buzzing bees,
Starry nights,
And cooling breeze.

In boulder fields,
First raindrops,
Boggy creeks,
And mountain tops.

In waterfalls,
Cedar breaks,
Grizzly Bears.
And big snowflakes.

In gurgling springs,
Hungry snakes,
Wild raspberries,
And alpine lakes.

In Aspen groves,
Wild mountain honey.
Spring wildflowers,
And days all sunny.

In vast pine forests,
Pecan bottoms,
Briar patches,
And colorful autumns.

So count your blessings
Not your gold.
Nature’s rich,
“Look, behold.”

Audio Version:

Boquillas Canyon on the Rio Grande

 

Dancing to Beyond

Two sorts of trails

Wander with intent
And dance with the winds.

They’ll lead you down the trail
To a place where life transcends.

Feel the ground beneath your feet
As you twirl and whirl and swirl.

Move into unknown spaces,
See nature’s light unfurl.

Hear the heartbeat as it rumbles,
Feel the rhythm throbbing sweetly.

Smell the roses in their glory,
Pass the moments indiscreetly.

Go where the breezes take you,
Let your limits fall behind.

Be a whirlwind marching onward
Full of pureness unrefined.

Turn loose of what constrains you
As you enter what’s ahead.

Then marvel at where you’ve gone
And at the place your path has led.

Audio Version:

Backpacking

So Much Beautiful

 

Late afternoon light- Batopilas Canyon, Mexico

The Sun rises.
It brings light
And warmth with it.

A violent thunderstorm
Heads on to the east
And a double rainbow
Forms where it used to be.

Eight buzzards catch an updraft
And soar effortlessly
Above the valley.

A young family piles into their car
And heads to town
For donuts.

The Herefords stop grazing.
They turn their butts into the wind,
Face the sun, and close their eyes
To soak in the warmth.

The slow, gentle rain stops.
Almost instantaneously,
The green of the meadow
Begins to glow.

A Tarahumara man sits down
And leans against a tree.
Then, he plays the violin he made.

The stoplight turns red
And the cars stop.

A mother Golden Eagle
Spends the day
Teaching her babies
To fly.

A salesman is late to an appointment.
He pulls off to the side of the road
And helps a stranger
Change their tire.

A crumbling old man talks to his cane.
A young woman
Sitting across from him answers.

An old dog crawls from under the porch
And sprawls out onto
The cool, refreshing dirt.

The drizzle stops,
The fog lifts,
And the clouds disappear.
And within a moment, blue skies erupt.

A kid stops, reaches down,
And picks up a nasty used Styrofoam cup.
She stuffs it into her back pocket
To throw away later.
And no one is watching.

Spring arrives in the mountains.
A snowdrift melts and
Is replaced by
A Calypso Orchid.

A volcano blows its lid.
Lava begins to pour out
And a new island is born.

A mountain climber reaches the top.
Before celebrating and relishing the view,
He turns and belays up the person 50 feet behind.

A dead Spruce tree
Falls and blocks a trail in the forest.
A new path begins.

The Sun sinks in the west.
Alpenglow briefly consumes the mountains.

The couple sits on their deck.
They ponder the horizon,
As a full moon rises over the hill.

Small, but integral parts
Of a beautiful day
That never ends.

———————————————————–

Audio Version:

Sharing in Ecuador

Steps of Faith

4  people crossing the Kahiltna Glacier in Alaska
                                         Crossing the Kahiltna Glacier, the Alaska Range

Cross the glacier,
And probe the surface ahead
With a pole.

Reach below,
And feel for hidden holes,
Filled with emptiness.

It’s a profound place
Of majestic vistas and open spaces.

Crisscrossed by mysterious cracks of darkness
Known as crevasses.
Which lie in wait–
Hoping to swallow you up,
And drink you into,
Their endless world of ice and cold.

Some are open for all the world to see.
Others are hidden under a thin shield of snow
And the sea you walk,
Is constantly changing.

The shape of each crevasse,
And where they are,
At any given moment in time,
May never be known.
But can be better understood.

Feel the edges underneath,
Where the breaches end,
And the solid glacier extends.

And follow the path of most resistance.

If you do,
The going is slow-
Circuitous and wobbly.

But perhaps you won’t fall in,
And will get where you’re going.

Audio Version:

                                                                             Crossing a wide open glacier

 

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