NaPoMo poem #9
This is the ninth of the poems I will be writing each day here in April, in honor of National Poetry Month, as proclaimed by the Academy of American Poets.
• NOTE: these poems will all essentially be early drafts, so edits may occur after their initial posting.
Rapt
____
drum the root chambers
of the old growth
each step
cushioned by centuries of needle-drop
in this ancient forest
enjoying the rise and fall
twist and turn of the trail
I amble
my walking stick is smooth
clutched comfortably
in my right hand
tensions dissipate
soothed
by the audible stir of the wind
in the treetops
wafting down the western Cascade slopes
it invigorates
the steady rhythm of my footsteps
hypnotize
rounding a bend in the trail
brushing through waist-high fern
I crest a knoll
and stop
mesmerized
filtered by the towering woodland canopy
light drifts down dreamlike
settles golden
into the natural cathedral before me
a presence is tangible
a breeze enfolds me
filled with the intoxicating scent
of living earth
an addictive bouquet
of cascade red cedar
douglas fir
ponderosa pine
moss
bark
loam
and ionized mountain air
my spirit rises
my being grows weightless
any sense of self floats away
lifted into oneness
wholeness
bliss
I’m startled from my reverie
a young doe
bounds onto the trail ahead
stands proud
pauses in the golden light
she considers me briefly
then disappears
quick as a stolen glance
quiet as passing time
darting my eyes
here then there
in a vain attempt to follow her
I catch glimpse of silver-blue
shimmering
where massive tree trunks part
a wind-blow lake appears
this crisp mountain mirror
is the reason for my trek
into this mighty wilderness
climbing a boulder at trail’s edge
I sit
pull my legs under me
and lean forward
elbows on knees
I face lake-ward
basking in the energy
I grow very still
listen
gaze
I become this moment
rapt
in touch with my soul
with the eternal
transcendent
in paradise
____
rob kistner © 2009
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you can find other NaPoMo offerings at read write poem