High desert landscape,
Barren and burned,
The trees I planted are gone,
Summer left us in a single day,
We skipped fall altogether,
And winter came blustering in,
All cold breath and falling snow…
Freezing heavy branches,
And the flowers too…
I stood outside,
Letting the chill in the air,
Freeze my cheeks,
And turn my breath to fog,
That slowly drifted away…
Yet,
I love it here,
Stark and surreal,
Everything is so clear,
There is no doubt,
As to what life is all about,
Not here…
There are no lies,
No make-believe dreams,
Just cold reality,
That one day,
The entire world will come to this,
An empty and cold place,
Where trees and dreams,
Once grew side by side,
Now only smooth stones,
And broad shouldered mountains exist,
The stars are so clear here,
The air so clean,
It clears the mind,
And reminds you,
Who you really are;
A child of this earth,
In this time and place,
Nothing exists,
Except the memory,
That here long ago,
Life existed and flowed,
Ran down these slopes,
In the form of liquid snow…
High desert landscape,
Surrounded by mountains that smile sagely,
And rumble approvingly,
As the footprints I leave behind,
Become obliterated by the falling snow…
sounds like a beautiful landscape to explore the inner and outer realities...you penned it quite graphically and with a sureness that speaks to direct experience...no wonder your words are so evocative!
Hauntingly beautiful poem which mirrors the true reality of life...life is simple...and life is love...love for all..
Wonderful snow line picture too..Retta...
Peter
A grand creative piece, Retta. Thank you for sharing. Love and peace. Regis
Reviewed by Vesna Perkovic (Reader)
Reviewed on November 22, 2004
I stood outside,
Letting the chill in the air,
Freeze my cheeks,
And turn my breath to fog,
That slowly drifted away
I did that last night..picture this..I'm standing on my terrace gazing at the blueblack sea at around 2am..the sky is perfectly clear garnished with enormous stars and behind me a glours majestic mountain..Oh teh beauty of it..
I get it. Really I do. I have seen what you see. When I stood and stared at the sight you describe I felt the smallness of man. It wasn't a bad feeling, it was just an honest one. I will never forget those days in Colorado. There is NOTHING that can humble a person like stazring straight up at a towering mountain with a meandering stream coursing its height like a living, pulsing, watery vein.
Imogene, a country-bred girl, longs to make a life for herself in New York City. She joins forces with her former college roommate to start a movie production company in the big city.
Deputy Dave Jenkins investigates the murder of local high school principal, Jerry Egge, but this is a multi-faceted novel that deals with spiritualism, romance, friendship, and children who fall through the cracks.
"Murder isn't usually this
Wonderful snow line picture too..Retta...
Peter
Letting the chill in the air,
Freeze my cheeks,
And turn my breath to fog,
That slowly drifted away
I did that last night..picture this..I'm standing on my terrace gazing at the blueblack sea at around 2am..the sky is perfectly clear garnished with enormous stars and behind me a glours majestic mountain..Oh teh beauty of it..
Superb piece..love it..saved it..ty Retta!
Vesna :)
Grand picture ... versed excellence ... enjoyed this write immensely!!
Best wishes,
Robert
as all yours truly are
you make nature stand so proud
William .....Peace & love
SO NICE ...............
Just Like Your Brain On Drain Laoded Drugged!
Excellent!
TRASK
Excellent write. Thanks. :-)
This is a beautiful, stimulating write! Your powerful expression and vivid imagery is amazing. Awesome picture also! Thanks for sharing.
Cynthia
Thank you Retta for your thoughtful comment on my poem!
Superb rendering of winter times...
Hope all is well Retta......
I agree with you. This is true classic.
Bill
Thank you so much for sharing your talents here with us.
Lisa
a sobering write--beautifully conveyed emotion and write. love the pic and verse--compliments each other perfectly! well done!
(((HUGS))) and love, karla.