Poem By Russ von Ohlhausen

I melt with the snow on the tops of mountains
I babble with the voice of the humble waters
I sip from the lake on the open plains

I crumble from the rocks in the foothills
I blow with the sand in the desert air
I roll with the herds in the mud filled wallow

I feel the rain as it rolls down this skin
I grow in the tree that reaches skyward
I am born with the bird in the hollow

I watch the moon as it rounds the sky
I meet the cold wind with my face
I am the doe that the fawn does follow

I am the hand that holds the flame
I am the solitary cloud in the clear sky
I stalk the calves as the buffalo run

I am the sound of the earth as it moves
I am the silence in the timeless cave
I still hear the first heartbeat of the sun

I leave the womb when the child is born
I die the day a life is through
I dissolve into time as I’ve always done

I melt with the snow on the tops of mountains.

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