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Hanging Rock

by Tony Whitaker

water rushes through these rocks
flowing through thickened evergreens,
most tall and lean like sentries
some oaks and maples in between

this creek and time has cut these walls
where shouts the palette of time fed hills
a forest barking in the breeze
how this old mountain does appease

with the roar of rushing waterfalls
over rocky cliffs to the valley floor
Hanging Rock unlocks my battened doors
created from locked-down daily chores

where from the top on a bright clear day
Blue Ridge Mountains forty miles away
i watch to simply sit and stare
silence, sweet with sounds of prayer

i’ve hiked here more than forty years
and when my time on earth is done
she will stand here for awhile
(the future holds all becomes one)

so as i cross this babbling brook
and stroll with nature at her pace
she painted such a magical place
i pray not time, or man, does soon erase

04/05/2008

Author's Note: Do you have a magical place?

Posted on 04/05/2008
Copyright © 2021 Tony Whitaker

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by George Hoerner on 04/05/08 at 03:12 PM

Very nicely done! The Blue Ridge Mountains are beautiful. I've parts of the trail and love it all. But now days the magic comes from my mind which is great because I find where ever I am I find magic. It took a long time.

Posted by Rhiannon Jones on 04/06/08 at 12:52 AM

Very nice, Tony. I know several such magical places...they help me feel connected and appropriately small.

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