by Steven Craig

When I stop to think of the world that I see,
It starts with my toes first reaching out of the blankets
Testing the waters of the room where I slept
Passing the night there in comfort

Now to go to the place I will spend my day
Far from home in places out of touch of those loved
Far from the oceans beckoning waves
Further still from the snow topped mountains my youth knew

I was the star gazer, looking forever at the sky
Seeking the millions of miles of glowing, fleeting light
Making my maps of the places I would come to know one day
Not realizing ever that the distance was forever too great

My dream was my reality, forever breathing in my lungs
Hope and faith that that place I was running toward would wait
It never does do that, the waiting for you to catch up
Time moves one to places you never reach .

In time, I dress, last things are the shoes on my feet
The ones that will be used the hardest to make the day work out well
I pass out the door, it may still be dark there, the sun will not see me
It is a day like any other, traveling unnoticed in the lands I live

But there is a long mountain range that stands before me
It is so tall it leans away against the curvature of the earth
That is were I was headed yesterday, and even the day before
Never did touch them, they moved on in the day and by night.

But one day, one summer day, I felt the ground rush
I was there for a moment, my face lit by that brilliant sun
The mountains held their breath and rage for me that one moment
I lived, I breathed, I flushed, I was there, the moment impossible.

The storm came for me, the jealous being it is in its lofty confines
The sound of a trillion drops falling on a billion leaves slowly roared up the ridge
The lightning flash searched me out, it mean to stab at me, its fire burning
The thunder in company for a joy only a cloud in life would understand.

I stood there in the storm, as it crashed about me, ruin and paradise aglow
I realized there was a constant glow about me, a blue light that would not darken
For above me, high in the storms sky, a circle in the clouds showed me to the moon
My hands held back my hair as I looked up to its ever brilliant face.

The storm would not have me, it would not chase me from my personal summit
The roars, and moaned past me, and on over the mountain to the valley beyond
Leaving me the leaves dripping a sweet memory of a time of intense passion
A moment in the wind, a hesitation of my heartbeat on my life’s road.

When I did leave the mountain to return to my place, my room, where my toes test the air
The mountain was sweet, it was green, moist, lush with a memory it would never had had
My life was stronger, it had caught the spark, the flash was in my blood, in my heart
Tested, I left the day to seek my memory, my smile, my hands holding a simple drop of that rain.


Posted on 05/03/2008
Copyright © 2020 Steven Craig

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