High Country

The past is still alive in me,
Wild and free, like a high country,
Hidden somewhere deep indeed:
An incredibly potent seed.

The past, it moves within it's arc
Through each moment, brave or stark,
Past each daytime, past each dark,
On stately tracks it can't depart.

The past is still alive inside,
Grand but humble, narrow but wide;
A place that in me must abide
Where the gabled memories sigh.

by Patti Masterman

Comments (1)

ohhhh, I like this. There is an old movie called Ride the High Country, and I believe, or rather I feel, it delivers and enlivens the very same soulful sentiment. Superbly written words who have obviously originated from the heart. Very nice Patti; always such a pleasure to read your work.