The Mountains

At 11,000’ in the mountains, there is nothing more deafening than the sound of the eternal present.

As I inhale and exhale, there is a bright light in front of my eyes as the winds carry the clouds away.

Nothing to think or say as I listen to Nature in its purest form.

I hear nothing more than the natural process of life as the water drops fall to the forest floor and in the distant, local fauna make their presence known.

I am nothing more than a mere microphone, quietly listening and recording all of the sounds transpiring around me.

OH, what it is to truly live in the eternal present……..

Alan Stroeve

by Alan Stroeve

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Comments (1)

The poem put me on top of a mountain. Edit errors: recording all of the sounds {of which is transpiring around me.} recording all the sounds transpiring around me.