The smell of the balsam and cedar
as I climb into the clouds
the thick gray around me
wet from the sky, the ground
knowing the sun is breaking
calling me to climb on
in the deep woods of August
where else would I rather be
out in creation
enjoying a gift from God
the scents on the breezes
brushing my face with the branches
up to the tree line
February 11, 2010
Copyright by Raymond A. Foss, 2000, 2001, 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005, 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010
Contact me at Ray Foss
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"...brushing my face with the branches" is a nice image. I also like, which I see in a few of your recent poems, the literal and metaphorical aspect of rising up, of climbing to spiritual heights.
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